


Therapy

by nerdyketones



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (Fear of Hospitals), (Fear of Needles), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anger Management, Complete, Dissociation, Eventual Levi/Eren Yeager, Medical Restraints, Medical Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Mystery, Nosocomephobia, Pining!Levi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Straightjackets, Therapy, Threats of Violence, Triggers, Trypanophobia, briefly mentioned sexual abuse/violence, slight descriptions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 49,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyketones/pseuds/nerdyketones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recovering patient Emily Linwood is directed by her psychologist, Dr. Erwin Smith, to meet with patients at varying stages of recovery as a form of therapy. She visits Conny, Armin, Bertl, and Mikasa regularly, but Dr. Smith asks her to test her limits and meet with a new patient. They know his name is Levi, that he's violent, and not much else. </p><p>Emily discovers that Levi was separated from someone very important to him, a mysterious Eren. </p><p>Or the modern day mental facility AU where Levi is on psychiatric hold and struggles to do anything more than explode. He is wary of trusting Emily; all he wants is to be with Eren again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a psychologist. I don't struggle with dissociation, and I don't have anger issues. I have no idea why I wrote this, but here it is.
> 
> This story doesn't have any graphic descriptions of violence, but it still covers a lot of things that might make people uncomfortable. I tried to list as many possible triggers as I could in the tags. 
> 
> Let me know if I'm really, REALLY wrong about something. I did as much research as I could to be as correct as I could, but again, I've never had any mental health issues. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> \--
> 
> -07/2016-- I just found out that mental health clinics and hospitals do NOT use straightjackets to restrain patients. I'm sorry if I offended anyone and for perpetrating a stereotype! Also, I've had people report that some of the images in later chapters aren't coming through. If you discover that something has gone wrong, PLEASE let me know!
> 
> \--09/2016-- Checked all of the images in later chapters to make sure that all are working.
> 
> \--04/2017-- I was made aware of a problem with the letter/article/email images in the later chapters, so I updated all of them. All images should be working now. If you find any that aren't working, please comment and let me know.

“Good morning, Emily!” Christa, the nurse on rounds in the mornings, greeted me cheerfully. “How are you today?”

“Surprisingly okay.” I said honestly. Even though I’d started to have negative thoughts yesterday, I hadn’t dissociated. It was another sign of progress, even if I didn’t feel like I was getting better.

To clarify, I’d been sent to this clinic, Sina Mental Health, after a horrible experience that had left me almost comatose to the world. I’d suffered more than I thought possible without dying. When I was sent to Sina, I thought that it was a guaranteed life sentence to be in a sanitarium, with straight jackets and pervy doctors. In truth, Sina had been the best thing that could have happened to me. I made slow but steady recovery until I wasn’t an in-bed patient. Rather, I had my own apartment, my own job, and my own life. I came in every other day for continued secondary partnered therapy. The process was the invention of one of the main doctors, Dr. Erwin Smith. His philosophy was that talking with other patients who were a few steps behind you in their recovery was therapeutic for both patients.

So far, I had to agree. The patients I’d talked to, a boy named Conny, a girl named Mikasa, and two very skittish boys, Armin and Bertl, had all been a great help to me. It was rewarding to reassure them of their own strength, and it was surprising to see how far I’d actually come. Sometimes it was hard to talk about things, but we’d all made steady progress with one another.

“Just ‘surprisingly’ okay?” Dr. Smith asked as he rounded the corner, shooting me a gentle smile.

“I had some trouble last night. I didn’t dissociate though.” I said with a shrug. I’d been taught and reassured constantly that it was good to share my feelings, but I still hesitated a lot. It was just one of the reasons why Dr. Smith had me talking to other patients.

“I am proud of you. That means you’re making progress!” he told me with an honestly proud expression. Christa also looked pleased. I never thought I’d live for the day when I was happy because others were proud of me, but the reassurance honestly felt good. “Would you like to try taking on another patient today?” he asked me.

“What about my others?” I asked, thinking of all of them. We’d come to depend on one another; missing a therapy session was sometimes dangerous. Any change in routine could spark a bad reaction.

“You’ll have time for them too. My newest patient is…” Dr. Smith sighed, rubbing his face. “He’s still very new to this. He’s on a legal psychiatric hold, and he doesn’t want to be here.”

“So was I.” I pointed out.

“My newest patient is abrasive, and has resorted to violence frequently. He is in desperate need of help, but he is still refusing to attempt contact or try any treatment plans on his own.” Dr. Smith shared, and I felt a tingle of fear go down my spine. “I wouldn’t offer you this chance if I wouldn’t provide a safe environment, or if I thought that you couldn’t handle this.” He said reassuringly. “Give it some thought while you see your other patients, alright?” He suggested. “Just let Christa or Petra know either way.”

“I--okay.” I agreed, mind spinning over the newest patient. I didn’t think I was ready for a challenge, and yet I wanted to help this mystery man. I’d ask my patients about it.

\--

“He’s violent?” Armin asked, voice a little tremulous. We’d met in the clinic’s garden. A few other patients were walking amongst the flowers, but otherwise the garden was mostly deserted. One of the orderlies, Reiner, nodded to us in greeting as he walked past too. “Can you handle that?” Armin asked, his blue eyes wide.

“I have no idea.” I said truthfully. “Something in me wants to try, but…” I shivered at the thought of violence. It wasn't a trigger for me, but that didn't mean that I wasn't still afraid of being hurt.

“I-- I think you might be brave enough.” he told me, smiling with shy encouragement. For Armin, who violence was a trigger for, even just suggesting that I should try it was a huge step for him.

\--

“Don’t do it.” Mikasa advised softly.

“Why?” I asked. Mikasa was the most negative out of all the patients I talked to. She was a very dry and realistic person; I couldn’t convince her with platitudes and emotional statements like I could with Armin and Bertl.

“Because you said you almost dissociated last night. You didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still sensitive.” She answered, curling around her knees. She was on bed rest; she was still injured from her ordeal, although she made sure to try and exercise every day. She said it was freeing for her mind, and Dr. Smith encouraged it. I did too- Mikasa was a very active person, and everyone needed a safe outlet for their emotions.

“If I don’t test myself, I’ll never get less sensitive...right?” I asked, and she shrugged.

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” She answered.

\--

“Maybe all he needs is a laugh.” Conny suggested. When he was in a good mood, he cracked the worst jokes and puns.

“Got any good jokes for me?” I asked. “If I go, I want to be prepared.” I couldn’t see in the dark of his room (Conny was more comfortable in the dark still, so we kept the lights off), but I thought for sure that Conny was grinning like an idiot.

“Why did the chicken cross the road?” he quipped.

“Enlighten me.”

“To get to Sina Mental Health to get his shit together.” Conny said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you should at least try.” He told me. After a second, he clicked on a flashlight, tensing a bit in the light. “It hurts to try, but that’s a good kind of hurt.” he declared.

\--

“It sounds bad.” Bertl whispered. Loud noises, even normal speech, put him on edge. His room was sound insulated, and it was one of the few places the poor guy could relax. Even normal fidgeting could make him anxious, and so I’d learned a lot about keeping still and quiet around him. It had been hard for me- I fidgeted when I was nervous.

“Yeah.” I agreed in a whisper, resisting the urge to drum my fingers on the armrest.

He paused a moment and then asked: “Does it scare you?” I mulled over the question.

“A little.” I sighed. It was embarrassing to admit it, but Bertl understood. He gave me a thumbs up. “I should do it?” I asked in a whisper, and he nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

\--

“I’ll give it a try, seeing Dr. Smith’s new patient.” I told Christa when I finished with Bertl. Her shift was almost over at the main rotation desk, but she often stayed later, just because she truly enjoyed her job and helping other people. She was an angel.

“Okay!” Christa chirped, picking up a desk phone and paging Dr. Smith. “You are so great with patients, Emily. You can put yourself in their shoes so easily.” She reassured me. “This time will be no different.”

“Thanks,” I said, grateful for the encouragement. We made light talk about the weather and the budding plants in the garden courtyard until Dr. Smith arrived.

“Excellent!” he declared, looking pleased. “I am very impressed that you want to test your limits.” He began to lead the way. He explained the usual rules:

1) I was told nothing about a patient’s history. All I knew about each one was whatever they’d wanted to tell me. Similarly, they knew nothing of my past unless I told them.

2) I was informed of any potential hazards before I started, and vice versa. For example, I’d been told that Bertl could become disoriented and could strike out if I was too loud, and he’d been told that I fidgeted when nervous. We’d both accepted those risks.

3) I couldn’t speak about my session with a patient to any other patient. Once I began therapy, there was nothing I could say about what we talked about. I was only allowed to talk to a psychologist or staff member about things we talked about, and only if I thought it was relevant to that patient's safety and comfort.

4) I wasn’t a psychologist. I wasn’t there to diagnose anyone. I was simply a more relatable, comfortable listener.

5) If at any time a patient asked me to stop or leave, or if I felt uncomfortable, the session was to stop _immediately_.

“This young man is called Levi. He hasn’t told us much else, and his official file is sparse. He knows how to fight professionally, and hasn’t hesitated in lashing out against staff.” Dr. Smith told me. “He is properly restrained, and Annie and Jean will be waiting for you outside.”

True to his word, the two orderlies were waiting for us at the patient’s door. Annie offered me a crisp nod, and Jean a crooked grin.

“Do you have any questions or concerns?” Dr. Smith asked.

A million what-ifs ran through my mind, my anxiety threatening to wreak havoc before I took a deep breath, held it, and then let it go. I trusted Dr. Smith, Jean, and Annie. Nothing would happen. I had to try. “No. I’m ready.” I informed him. Dr. Smith read my expression carefully before nodding his approval.

“See you later,” Jean said, unlocking the door. I stepped inside the room, and swallowed down hysteria when the door locked behind me.

The room was padded, dry, and quiet. A man of small stature was propped in a corner. He was wearing a straightjacket, which made my heart clench. After a moment, his head lifted. From under black bangs, the most intense, furious eyes I’d ever seen glared at me.

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” a hoarse, angry voice snarled at me.

“Emily.” I answered. “Dr. Smith asked me to talk to-,”

“Fuck off.”

Levi’s response, so short and harsh, made my breath catch. Even restrained, his gaze and body language promised violence. In way of reply, I slowly sat down, trying not to fidget.

“Fuck. Off.” Levi repeated, eyes narrowing.

“It won’t help.” I said after a moment, trying to be brave. “Withdrawing won’t make any of this go away.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Levi warned furiously. Abiding him, I said nothing. We sat in tense, horrible silence. I knew what he was doing. Shutting down and not communicating was something I’d done too. I wondered, sadly, what had happened to him to make him like that.

I had no idea what to say. After twelve or so minutes of angry silence and not looking at one another, Dr. Smith came in. Levi instantly tucked his legs in and turned his glare onto the man. “Anything?” Dr. Smith asked me.

I shrugged helplessly.

Frowning, Dr. Smith turned to Levi. “Do you remember me telling you about patient-patient interaction as a form of therapy, Levi?” He asked calmly.

The raven-haired man said nothing, just glared. If looks could kill, Dr. Smith and I would be dead.

“Emily has volunteered to meet with you every other day. Talking to her may help you.”

Still nothing.

Dr. Smith sighed, looking disappointed. He looked at Levi for a moment longer before offering me a hand up. I hesitated, and then got up on my own. Dr. Smith wasn’t offended, but his eyebrows pulled a fraction more downward. I didn’t reject touch so strongly anymore: I was really trying. Avoiding his hand was unusual.

Levi watched this exchange through narrowed, angry eyes.

“That’s all for today,” Dr. Smith told me, and he let me leave first. “Don’t be discouraged. You did well. Do you want to stop?” He asked me outside the door.

“I--no.” I decided. The sterility of the space, so like a traditional hospital, had subconsciously put me on edge, but I could recognize that. It wasn't Levi per say that had made me that uncomfortable, but his room. Touching someone on top of that would have pushed me farther than I felt comfortable with. After a second to clear my thoughts, I told Dr. Smith.

“Ah.” He now understood why I’d avoided him. “Thank you for telling me. I think this will be a good challenge for you.” He said optimistically. He offered me a smile. “I’ll see you the day after next, Emily. Take care.”

The entire drive home, I thought of Levi.


	2. Second Meeting

That night, I dreamed of Levi. His room got smaller and smaller around me, forcing us closer together. His eyes, so angry and grey, seemed to bore holes right through my body. When he suddenly had a scalpel in his hand, I woke up with a gasp. After a dream like that, there was no way that I could sleep, so I got up.

It was my day off from the clinic. I worked every other day from home as a website designer and computer programmer. The solitude helped- I wasn’t ready for too much interaction yet. I actually lived in a ‘senior living’ apartment complex, just because it was quiet and safe. My older neighbors all respected me, and I had safeguards in place in case I dissociated. An RNA checked my apartment three times a day to make sure I wasn’t comatose on the floor.

I made a cup of tea, and worked aimlessly for a while. I couldn’t get Levi out of my head. Why was he angry? What had happened to make him that way? When I’d made a website background the exact slate grey of his eyes, I shutdown my computer and went for a walk.

I was nervous heading back into SMH the next day. Petra was working at the desk, and offered me a warm smile as I made my way to my other patient’s rooms. I couldn’t tell them specifics, but I told them about how it hadn’t gone badly, but it hadn’t gone well either. 

Armin told me that I was brave, and haltingly told me a little more about himself, how he’d been beaten a lot. How I could willingly go into a potentially violent situation was inspiring to him. I’d thanked him for sharing, and I told him that he was brave for being able to tell me. That made Armin cry a little. 

Mikasa swore to protect me.  She did crunches, slow but steady, as I described my latest web design project; she liked to hear about the ‘normal’ parts of my life. She was happy that I’d taken a walk and seen joggers on the street. That was the first thing she wanted to do when she was released. We made a plan to run a marathon together, and shook on our promise. 

Conny was solemn that day- no jokes were shared. I told him about my dream, which led to a shaky explanation that I was afraid of anything medically related. Needles, blood, scalpels, scrubs, antiseptic...everything. Ice, especially. He turned on two flashlights, a brave amount of light for him, while I told him about how I’d gotten over my fear of all of the staff at Sina. They all wore scrubs, and so I’d been utterly terrified of them, convinced they were involved with the event that had landed me at Sina in the first place. Conny accepted my story with a quiet nod.

Bertl was anxious, horribly so. A pipe had needed maintenance nearby on my day off. Even with warnings from staff and an insulated room, Bertl had heard everything, the sounds driving him much too close to a bad, bad place. He was still on edge. He seemed ashamed, but he asked me to go. I whispered that there was nothing wrong with needing space, gave him a reassuring smile, and left.

Jean and Annie were waiting for me at Levi’s room; it seemed as if they’d been specially assigned to Levi’s case. The fact that he needed orderlies specifically assigned to him was slightly alarming. It meant that Levi was consistently lashing out when he wasn’t restrained, and probably when he was too. That made me worry for them, worry that they were going to get hurt one day. Jean gave me another crooked smile as he unlocked Levi’s door. It locked behind me, as it had before.

Levi didn’t look up as I approached cautiously, but the line of his shoulders, still in a straight jacket, tensed. I sat down, already noticing that he didn’t like it when someone stood over him, even though I was still five feet or so away. “Good afternoon, Levi,” I said softly.

No response.

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

Silence.

“Do you want to know anything about me?” Sometimes hearing someone else’s misfortunes helped. If they knew that I’d been in their shoes, they felt a little more at ease.

Still nothing. 

I sat with him in silence for a while. You could barely hear our breathing. If you really strained your ears, you could hear the ticking of a clock out in the hallway, and the occasional low, muffled sound of a  bit of conversation between Annie and Jean. His room was completely empty, and so clean it was sterile. I could see light depressions in the floor where his bed was pushed in at night and then removed during the day. “Do you want me to leave?” I asked finally.

“I want you to shut the  _ fuck  _ up.” Levi snarled, and I flinched at the sudden volume and aggression. I hadn’t been looking at him, but I glanced up at the sound of his voice. I got a flash of grey, angry eyes before I looked away hastily. It took me a moment to process his response. My anxiety was telling me to leave. My stubborn heart insisted me to keep trying. 

Then, I realized. Levi hadn’t asked me to leave; he’d only asked me not to say anything. Armin had said once that I had a calming presence. One of the reasons he liked meeting with me was because we could sit quietly together and do nothing. It wasn’t out of the question that I could do the same for Levi.

As the days passed, I simply sat in the quiet with Levi. He still was in a jacket for every meeting. Every time we met I only said three things- I greeted him,  I asked after a half an hour (roughly) of quiet if he wanted me to go, and I said goodbye. To Dr. Smith’s delight, Levi never demanded that I leave- I was always the one who ended the session. 

Sometimes when I greeted Levi, he snarled at me. Other days, he said nothing. After about a month of visits, he finally muttered a ‘Hi,’ when I came in, and a ‘Bye,’ when I left. I told my other patients more and more about my past, and vice versa, but I never shared anything with Levi. It was an oddly convoluted form of therapy, but it was helping. I truly spent almost an hour every other day thinking of nothing but another person- Levi. I wondered what he’d been through. What his favorite color was. Did he have a favorite food? Did he have family that were hoping that he’d make a recovery?

\--

After a month and a half of silent visits, I decided to try something new. It took a long time and a screening process with Dr. Smith, but I eventually had a list of books that I was allowed to bring in with me. Once I’d stopped dissociating so much, I’d been bored to tears in my room. Reading had been a healthy escape for my brain, just like Mikasa craved exercise as stimulation. 

“Good afternoon, Levi,” I said quietly, as usual. He never looked at me directly unless he was glaring, but I was always in his peripheral vision. He noticed the two books in my arms instantly.

“The fuck are those?” He demanded instantly, jutting his chin towards them and fixing me with a fierce look. 

“I was bored during my recovery. I thought you might be too.” I answered, sitting down in my usual spot, a good five feet away. I wasn’t sure if he’d want me to read them to him- in every appointment he’d only demanded silence. 

“How am I supposed to read a book like this, you fucking idiot?” He gave a pointed jerk in his jacket, like a caged animal. It took me a moment to process his answer; I’d learned to read between the lines with Levi. He hadn’t shot down the idea. If anything, he’d expressed a desire to do it himself. If I suggested reading it to him, he’d probably tell me to piss off. 

“I could turn the pages for you.” I suggested without really thinking the idea through, stomach clenching at the thought of getting close to him. I was sure that he could hear the apprehension in my voice, and I hoped that he wouldn’t take it too personally. Silence descended. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, even though I could feel eyes on me.

“What books did you bring?” He muttered finally. It was the least angry I’d ever heard him. 

“ _Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee _ and  _ Harry Potter.  _ Non-fiction and fiction.” I gave him the two choices. 

“The Indian one,” he decided. I made a cautious approach, sitting across from him instead of across the room. Up closer, it was clear that although he was small, just a smidge shorter than Armin, he was packed with muscle. When he wasn’t in a jacket (they couldn’t keep him in one all the time, it was illegal) he must exercise, like Mikasa did. I worried for Annie and Jean again- they had to wrangle such an intimidating person into a straightjacket at least every  other day for visitation and any medication Levi needed to take. The idea of Levi accepting a jacket didn’t strike me as possible; I was sure that he’d fight it every step of the way. However, he could cancel our visits so that he wouldn’t be in a jacket, but he didn’t. He was a mystery.

I opened the book, flipped past the chapter listing, and got to the first page of true text. The book was old; one of my neighbors had given it to me. The spine was cracked, so the pages lay flat. In the sterile environment of Levi’s room, the smell of an old book was probably incredibly stimulating. Now that I was closer to him, I could smell him too; he smelled like soap and a bit like antiseptic, which made my blood briefly go cold. It was an odd thing to notice, but after weeks of being distant, I noticed everything I could up close. I was sure that Levi was doing the same. He’d gone so long without much stimulation. 

His legs were bent, knees drawn near his chest, so I turned the book and, without touching him, I let it slide down his thighs. Propped up on his legs, the book was in  _ his  _ possession. I wanted to give him independence. I sat cross-legged in front of him, and opened the other book. We read in silence for a while until Levi uttered, “Next.” 

I turned the page, making sure to make the movement slow. I was careful not to touch him. We must have read like that for an hour longer than we usually met. Levi was sometimes impatient for me to turn the page faster, but he never raised his voice. I wasn’t sure if he was reading so fast because he was afraid of being bored again when I left, or if he was just a fast reader. When he reached the end of the fifth chapter, I hesitated on turning the next page. 

“You have to go.” Levi said, sounding bitter. Nothing escaped his notice. I just nodded, not trusting myself to say anything. “Bring that shitty book back.” he ordered as I took it off his knees. I stood up slowly, but stepped back quicker, seeing his shoulders tense at the prospect of someone looming over him. 

“I--Dr. Smith said I could leave it here for you.” I told him softly, and his eyes widened at the concept.  He was being trusted. The book had been both an attempt to alleviate his certain boredom as well as a test of how he’d respond. He hadn’t been violent, and so Dr. Smith had agreed that letting him keep a book in his room was safe. “What should I bring for next time?” I asked.

“More non-fiction.” He said with what looked suspiciously like a shrug in his jacket. A second later, he hesitated but then added, “Please.” I looked up from the floor, and got a glimpse of his eyes from around his bangs. He usually only ever made direct eye contact to glare. This time, he was just...looking. His gaze was flat, but not unfriendly. 

“Okay. Goodbye, Levi.” I said, grateful to see him when he wasn’t furious. I set his book down in the middle of the room, and knocked on the door. Jean let me out, and shot me a quizzical look as he shut and locked the door behind me. 

“You’re smiling.” He informed me, starting to grin a bit himself. With his prompt, I could feel it too- I  _ was  _ smiling. 

“Dr. Smith is going to be over the moon.” Annie said dryly, but with a hint of a smile. 


	3. What Happened to Emily

“Who is Arnold Chatterjee?” Levi asked almost as soon as I stepped into his room. I’d spent my day off coding furiously, staying up far too late. An unexpected workload had been good, because I earned more money, but Id also had to stay up later than usual to finish. I was tired, and so for a moment I thought that I’d just imagined him speaking. After more than a month of either silence or threats of violence, hearing him ask a simple question was oddly strange. 

“My neighbor. How…?” I trailed off, baffled at his question. 

“His name is written in that book, you moron.” Levi muttered, gesturing with his head to  _ Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.  _ It was sitting in the middle of the room where I’d left it. 

“Oh.” I sat in the usual spot, five feet back, and I thought I saw a flash of impatience in his face. He’d clearly finished the first book and wanted to get to reading a new one as soon as possible. “ _Silent Spring,_ or  _ The Making of the Atomic Bomb?”  _ I offered. 

“Don’t care.” 

I picked the latter, flipped it to the first page, and let it slide into position like I had the last time, sitting across from him. “You can take your time. I’ll leave both here.” I said after he tore through the first chapter at lightning speed. He grunted to show that he’d heard me, but said nothing. He did slow down a bit though. 

We read in peace for about two hours. The whole time I couldn’t help but wonder about him. He knew that I’d leave the books for him to finish. Levi could very easily tell me to leave as soon as I brought the books, only to read them on his own, with his own two hands. I wondered if he was afraid of me stopping the sessions, or not bringing any more books if he did that, and that made my heart twist. He shouldn't have to fear retaliation like that, especially without any other kind of outlet. “If you want to read on your own, I’ll still drop off books for you.” I finally had the courage to say it after another half an hour of reading.

“I will rip off your head and shit down your throat if you don’t  _ shut. Up.”  _ Levi hissed, but he didn’t take his eyes off his book. “Next,” he added, and glanced up at me, waiting. He hadn’t said the words explicitly, but he’d vehemently rejected the idea of not meeting with me anymore. It was an odd form of progress, but it was still a step in the right direction. 

I turned the page and went back to my book.

\--

Our sessions continued. Over the next week I would push off work to go and find new books for him from the library, from my neighbors, and even from the thrift store, and so I’d end up staying up horrifically late, sometimes until four in the morning to finish my work. The result were growing bags and a lassitude I couldn't shake. I’d wake up a bit with my other patients, eager to hear more about their progress, but in the silence of Levi’s room I’d start to fall asleep. It took a lot of effort just to hold back yawns.

\--

“Fuck you.” Levi said it venomously, and after a good fifteen minutes of reading. I flinched at the sudden anger, but I made myself stay where I was. 

“Do you want me to--?” I was offering to leave, but he cut me off.

“I’m trying to read. It’s been a week, and you still look like shit. It’s distracting.” He said sharply. When I just stared at him, wide-eyed, he demanded, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He’d noticed my bags, and my occasionally shaky fingers. Not even my neighbors, who would stop and chat with me frequently, had mentioned it. Dr. Smith had asked me if I was developing insomnia, which wasn’t uncommon for people who struggled with dissociation like I did, but his interest had been mostly medical. My other patients had mentioned that I’d looked tired, but they hadn’t asked or _demanded_ for more information. 

“Are you dying or something?” He asked sharply, pulling me out of my thoughts. He was glaring, but not at full force. Grey eyes flicked to my fingers to my eyes to my bags, noticing everything, missing nothing.

“No.” I answered, unsure on how much to say. Levi was a man of few words, and my few attempts at giving him information sometimes resulted in his increasingly creative ways of telling me to stop talking. Regardless, I wasn’t used to being asked so bluntly about my health. I wasn’t used to being asked much about it at all, and when people did I usually got extremely uncomfortable and avoided the subject altogether. 

“Then what is it?” He demanded, not even blinking. 

“I--I haven’t been sleeping so I can finish work.” I gave him the short version. When he just kept staring, I added, “I’m a web designer; I work from home.” 

“You can’t work during the day?” He scoffed, like I was an idiot for not doing that in the first place. 

“I’ve been--I get books for you during the day.” I admitted, and I saw a ripple of first understanding, then surprise, and then his usual blank mask slid back into place.

“Then go home and sleep.” He muttered, turning his eyes back to his book. I sat there, blank with shock, until he looked up and repeated, “Fucking  _ go home.” _

It was as close as he’d ever gotten to telling me to leave him alone, and so I stood up, and left the other book in the middle of the room. “Goodbye, Levi,” I said.

"Bye.” he said, tone clipped. I’d just raised my hand to knock when he suddenly said, “Emily.”

I paused, and turned to look at him.

“Thanks.” he muttered, not looking away from his book.

"You’re welcome.” I said softly, and knocked on the door to be let out.

\--

“Emily, can I talk to you for a moment?” Dr. Smith asked. I’d left Levi a few minutes previously, and was making light conversation with Petra and Christa at the front nurse’s station. 

“Sure. Is this about my patients?” I asked. Bertl had been unstable for about a week after the pipe. Armin had been making steady progress. Conny had stagnated a bit, unable to progress from three flashlights to a lamp, and Mikasa was still healing.

“No. I hate to remind you, but you need to have your physical exam for this quarter.” He said gently, and my teeth instantly clenched in the back. My health wasn’t great; my ordeal had taken an irreversible toll on my body. I hated medicine and doctors, and so instead of referring me to a regular physician, I saw Dr. Pyxis, the head doctor at Sina Mental Health. My visits were always like pulling teeth, and I almost always dissociated after. Because of that, and because I had no one to go with me, Dr. Smith always went with me, four times a year.

“I-- okay. Okay.” I agreed, forcing myself to take a measured breath in and then out. “When?”

“Not tomorrow; that’s your free time. The day after Dr. Pyxis has an opening.” Dr. Smith said sympathetically.

“I won’t get to see my patients?” I asked, feeling a greater pang of panic. I depended on my patients like they depended on me. Sharing things with them was different than trying to tell Dr. Smith. Without them, I would be nothing.

"I’m sorry, Emily. I know that it is very important to you, but Dr. Pyxis isn’t available at any other time. Would you like to go back around and warn your patients? If not, I’m sure Petra would be happy to.” he said, nodding to the nurse, who sent me a reassuring smile.

I knew right away that I wouldn’t be able to talk about it. I could barely admit that it terrified me. Thinking about my impending appointment as well as my fear would be too much. “Petra, if you wouldn’t mind…?” I asked timidly.

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.” She told me warmly.

“You’ve been making a lot of progress, Emily. This time may be different. Have faith in yourself.” Dr. Smith suggested. “I’ll see you then.”

\--

My day off was spent channeling my nervous energy into safe outlets. I vacuumed. I followed Youtube video instructions to make origami frogs out of Post-It-Notes. I reorganized my kitchen cabinets. I tried to work, but I got too wound up and ended up doing nothing until night fell and it was time to get some rest. I didn’t sleep a wink. I spent most of the night watching my microwave spin around. I had little bean bags that I could heat up in there; the source of heat on my nerves, especially when extreme cold could be a trigger for me, helped to keep me in the present. The spark on my senses, the warmth in my hands, helped to calm me down. I brought them with me to my appointments- I knew that I’d need them.

When I got to SMH, Dr. Smith walked with me to Dr. Pyxis office, and took the bean bags to start heating them up immediately; this was routine. “Hello, Emily. How have you been?” Dr. Pyxis rumbled, smiling warmly at me. If he wasn’t the man who consistently made me terrified (it was for my own good, but still), I’d like him a little more. He reminded me of the seniors at the apartment complex where I lived; he was older, with a calm, spunky personality.

“Fine,” I said vaguely, tapping a nervous pattern into my chair, trying to think of something else.

“Emily,” Dr. Smith sighed, already catching me in a lie. “She hasn’t been sleeping as much as she should.” He said pointedly.

“Hmm.” Dr. Pyxis said. “Is it because you can’t fall asleep, or something else?”

“Something else. Work. I can fall asleep okay.” I explained. “Otherwise, I’ve been fine.”

“You haven’t gotten sick?” Dr. Pyxis asked. I was borderline immunocompromised thanks to my tragedy, which meant that I got sick easily and took a long time to get over even something as simple as a cold. I shook my head in response- I’d been lucky this quarter. “You’ve followed your diet?” he asked, and I nodded my affirmative. “Your urine production is stable, without odors, color changes, or volume changes?” Dr. Pyxis asked.

“It’s stable.” I agreed, wincing a bit at the thought of why he’d even had to ask.

“That’s excellent news.” Dr. Pyxis said. “All we’ll need to do is a physical exam and the usual, although unfortunate, blood draw.” he added, apologetic but firm.

_ Blood.  _

My breath hitched at the thought. I tried telling myself that this was routine, just like visiting my patients and finishing work. It was normal. It was safe.

“Breathe, Emily,” Dr. Smith reminded me, voice low. I inhaled as directed, and stood up after a moment, moving to sit on the exam table. I was trembling, but I was determined to try and get by without sensory stimulation for as long as possible.

Dr. Pyxis checked my eyes, ears, and throat. He tested my reflexes on my knee. The blood pressure cuff, a squeezing sensation, helped to keep me in the present. “Hmm. A little low, Emily. You’re under considerable stress, and yet your blood pressure is a bit lower than I’d like.” He told me. “Did you drink anything this morning?”

“No.” I said, and he tutted a bit.

“Next time.” He directed, and I nodded blankly. He heated his stethoscope in his hand, put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and then slipped the stethoscope under my shirt. I only had one lung for him to listen to, which sped up the process, but I was starting to get shakier. I let my fingernails bite into my palms a bit. “I hear you have plans to run a marathon with Mikasa.” Dr. Pyxis made conversation, helping to keep me from dissociating. “Does she know about your lung?”

“No,” I answered, voice shaky. “I did some research; I’ll be able to do it...just more slowly.”

“I’d love to see it.” Dr. Pyxis said gently. “You’re doing very well, but it’s time for the part that nobody likes. Can you lay down?”

A whimper escaped before I could even stop it. The abdomen exam always sent me over the edge without fail. It took me a minute, but I slowly laid back, eyes slamming shut. “Emily. I have a hot pack here. Do you need it?” Dr. Smith asked quietly. “There’s no shame in needing it.” He said when I hesitated, still stubbornly trying to hold out. I wanted to get better so  _ badly. _

“N-no. Go ahead.” I insisted. No matter how warm Dr. Pyxis hands were, I always hissed when he lifted my shirt and slid his hands underneath, gently palpating my stomach.

_ A flash of antiseptic, of an ice block. _

“Emily. Stay with us, Emily.” Dr. Smith called calmly.

_ I was so cold; I was numb. I was going to die like that, freezing and afraid--! _

“H-heat. I need it. Heat, please,” I gasped. I’d held out longer than usual, which was progress. It was a hollow victory- even though the heat being placed in my hand was a good spark, Dr. Pyxis wasn’t finished. His fingers finally brushed a scar, and like a blink of an eye, I felt myself slip.

_ They took more liver. I heard them talking about it, delirious with pain and some sort of drug cocktail. They’d already taken a kidney and my spleen. They hadn’t taken blood in a while, getting me ready for the removal of another organ, but they normally took blood every four weeks. _

“Emily, please. You can do this.” That wasn’t one of them. That was one of my doctors.

_ How long had I been there for? They took one of my lungs too. It nearly killed me; I’d fought off an infection from the surgery for almost a month. At least, I thought it was a month. Time had no meaning. _

“Dr. Smith?” I gasped, struggling to find the present.

_ They were planning on taking one of my eyes. I heard them talking about it, and if I’d had the energy to scream and beg I would have. I just wanted to die. I was too cold, so cold--! _

“Yes. I’m here. Breathe, Emily.” Dr. Smith answered, voice quiet and calm. “The exam is over. Dr. Pyxis already took a blood sample. You’re all finished.”

I was...done? That meant I’d dissociated for the blood draw  _ again.  _ I never made it that long. When they’d tried structuring my appointment in reverse, with the blood draw first, I’d dissociated instantly, and had to go back the next day to answer general questions.

“You are a very strong individual, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis said quietly.

Panting, I cracked an eye open. I wasn’t in the hangar, chained inside a bathtub full of ice. I was lying on the exam table. There was a gauze bandage around my arm from the blood draw I hadn’t even felt. Dr. Smith had put a heat pack in each of my hands, and one on my stomach, but it hadn’t been enough. Frustrated, I closed my eye again.

“Take a minute to think about how well you did.” Dr. Smith said, reading my frustration off of my face. “You answered all of his questions in complete sentences, with details that make you uncomfortable. For over half of the examination you were relatively calm, even when you laid back on your own.  You didn’t need a hot pack until Dr. Pyxis had already started the abdomen exam.” Dr. Smith listed off my accomplishments. “When you first met Dr. Pyxis, we had to restrain you, and you dissociated instantly.”

“I still didn’t make it this time.” I said, hearing how bitter I sounded.

“But you didn’t completely dissociate, when last time you did.” Dr. Pyxis pointed out. “That was no small feat, Emily. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Any step in the right direction is progress.” Dr. Smith said his mantra, the statement and variations thereof I’d heard thousands of times.

“Okay. Thank you.” I sighed, still disappointed but willing to admit that they were right. I’d never be able to do this on my own- I just needed to accept that.

“I’ll let you know if anything looks abnormal on your blood screen, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis said as I sat up, glancing at my arm and the gauze pad held in the crook with a wince. Just the thought of having been poked with a needle made my skin crawl.

“Okay,” I agreed, sliding down off the table. I’d taken two steps before my vision loomed with black spots, and I staggered.

“Emily! Are you alright?” Dr. Smith caught me, and instantly helped me sit down on the floor. He sounded alarmed. He probably thought I was dissociating.

“M’dizzy,” I managed fuzzily, and tucked my head between my knees. I heard a sigh of relief.

“This is why you need to drink water, especially in the morning, young lady.” Dr. Pyxis said with mock sternness. “I’ll get you a glass. Don’t get up.” I heard him leave.

“Sorry,” I apologized a second too late, still a little dazed. The black spots were clearing, and my ears weren’t ringing anymore.

“Don’t apologize, Emily. You did nothing wrong. Are you cold?” Dr. Smith asked. It was a bit chilly on the floor, and he didn’t want me to dissociate on accident.

“A little.” I said, and I heard rustling. After a moment, something warm draped over my shoulders- it was his lab coat. He got up to reheat the bean bags. “Dr. Smith? Can I still see patients today?” I asked softly, suddenly wishing for a joke from Conny, or the silent support of Armin or Bertl. Mikasa would be livid- she was oddly protective that way.

“I--perhaps,” Dr. Smith sighed, coming back and tucking the hot bean bags as well as his lab coat closer around me. “Petra informed all of them the last time we met that you wouldn’t be in today. Most of them took it well, but…” he sounded troubled. “Levi was a different story.”

“Did something happen?” I asked faintly, savoring the heat. The conversation was good; it helped reel me in.

“He had an episode, yes.” Dr. Smith said delicately, and I felt my heart sink. “Petra made the honest mistake of saying that you’d be unavailable due to my direction. While that was true, it appeared to Levi that I was barring you from visiting. He didn't like that.”

“Is Petra okay?” I asked, suddenly extremely nervous for her. I thought of Jean and Annie trying to handle Levi and winced. I had never seen him have an episode, but the sheer amount of violence he could promise with just his expression made me think that he was dangerous. 

“She’s fine. Jean and Annie took care of things.” Dr. Smith reassured me. “Now that this has happened, I don’t know how he would react to you visiting.”

“He was upset. That means that he was at least depending on my sessions for something, right?” I asked after a moment to think, lifting my head a bit to look at Dr. Smith. He smiled.

“Yes.” He agreed, still pleased at that. “He reads your books twice you know. Once on the day you give it to him, and then again on the day you don’t visit.”

“It’s something to do. I read just as much.” I said with faint laugh at the memory. I’d bothered orderlies constantly for books, for manuals, for anything to read. One of them, Moblit, had brought in a box of them from his parent’s basement. A lot of them had been on computer coding and web design. I’d loved them, and had taught myself to code and build websites.

“Hello! I’m glad you didn’t faint on us.” Dr. Pyxis was back, with two glasses of water. “You’ll need to drink both before I let you get up.” He said with a wink, crouching with a low groan of protest on his joints before setting the cups down next to me.

“Do you think Emily would be able to visit patients today?” Dr. Smith asked him, and I tried not to look too hopeful. Dr. Pyxis was a necessary evil. I hated talking about my health and my condition, and so he’d become very selective about my activities simply because I had no regard for my own physical limitations. Someone had to do it, even if I was frequently disappointed with his decisions. 

“Oh, sure. Maybe not all of them, but some at least. If you get tired or  _ dizzy  _ again, you need to stop and lie down." He said pointedly. "If the fatigue persists, you need to have someone drive you home.” Dr. Pyxis allowed, smiling behind his bushy mustache as I reached for the first cup of water.

“Thanks, Dr. Pyxis.” I said, honestly grateful.

\--

I drank the two cups of water, and after fifteen minutes and a second check of my blood pressure, Dr. Smith helped me up off the floor. I gave him back his lab coat, but kept the bean bags in my pockets to keep my fingers a little bit warmer. When we reached the nurse’s station, Christa got me a blanket from the dryer, seeing as I was still shivering intermittently. 

I saw Armin first. Marco, another nurse, knocked first and asked him if he was alright for a visit. I’d heard his loud, hasty agreement from all the way outside. Marco got the door for me, and left with a smile. “Emily-- wh-what happened to you?” Armin asked weakly, looking at me like I’d seen a ghost. The white blanket probably didn’t help.

“I--I’m afraid of doctors. Really afraid of them. I had to see one today, Dr. Pyxis. I dissociated, but not all the way.” I told the floor, suddenly glad I had a warm blanket to practically hide in. “I just wanted to see you still.”

“Are--are you sick?” Armin asked, realizing that the topic was sensitive, but also wanting to know more.

“It’s complicated. I’m not dying or anything. I--I'm missing organs.” I mumbled into the blanket. 

“Can I hug you?” Armin asked, voice tremulous. I nodded. This was big for Armin. I’d probably scared him a little, and he was as bad as I’d been- most touches made him cringe. He was hypersensitive. However, the blanket I was swamped in acted like a bit of a barrier. We were touching, but we weren’t  _ touching, _ and the sensation of the blanket was something he'd grown accustomed to, seeing as it was identical to his own. “Thank you for coming to see me anyway, and for telling me. You look so tired.” He mumbled into the blanket as we hugged. I was suddenly very glad that I'd gotten to see him. 

\--

“Assholes.”  Mikasa growled, pacing around her bed. I was seated on the floor, still in my blanket. I’d told Mikasa what I’d told Armin, and she hadn’t taken it well. “They know that it’s horrible for you, and they did it anyway.” She added fiercely, sensing that I was going to try and talk her down.

“I--Mikasa, I’m not in the best of health. Ever since what happened to me, I have to see a doctor regularly.” I told her for the first time, and she stopped pacing, turning to look at me.

“You’re sick?” She asked, voice calm but also very not calm at the same time.

“No. I--,” I swallowed hard, and some of her war-like expression disappeared as she read the struggle in my expression. “I don’t have a second kidney. Or lung. Part of my liver is gone. My spleen is completely gone.” I was whispering by the end. To my surprise, Mikasa’s eyes sparkled with tears at the news. She sniffed loudly, hastily wiping her eyes on her arm.

“You don’t have to say anything else. I get it.” She said. “I’m just glad you told me.”

\--

I laughed until my ribs hurt with Conny. He saw how tired I was (he kept three flashlight on at all times now) and made it his mission to take my mind off of it. I told him what I’d told Armin and Mikasa, and he’d made a horrendous pun about me being ‘all-right’, a reference to the fact that I’d lost my left lung and left kidney. 

“Does it hurt a lot?” Conny asked. “Like, are you always lopsided or something?”

“No,” I answered, still a bit breathless from laughing so much. “I’ve just got to be careful with my health is all.”

“No binge drinking for you, Ms. No-Liver.” Conny said cheekily, and I laughed again.

\--

Bertl had pulled away completely. He seemed relieved to see me, but we sat in complete silence. Not all people could recover- everyone’s horrors changed them in different ways. It made my heart hurt to see him retracting instead of progressing, but I knew that this wasn’t the end. It was entirely possible that this was just how he was the most comfortable existing. I made a mental note to bring him a book on sign language so that if he wanted to communicate without speaking he’d be able to.

\--

That just left speaking with Levi. Excitement and apprehension mixed in my stomach as I made my way to his room. 


	4. What Happened to Levi

“Are you sure?” Annie asked skeptically, eyeing the blanket I was still wrapped in, pursing her lips in disapproval. 

“He’s not like you remember.” Jean added, frowning. 

“I’m sure.” I said, and after exchanging a look with Annie, Jean gave in and unlocked the door. I stepped inside, and my heart clenched.

A hospital bed had been rolled into his room, and Levi was in it. His ankles were strapped down, as were his legs. He was in his jacket, with a strap around his chest to hold him down. His head was turned away from me. One could almost assume that he was asleep, but every muscle in his body had tensed when the door opened. The silence in the room was oppressive, bitter, and angry. “Good afternoon, Levi.” I said softly, and his head whipped over on the pillow, eyes shooting open. Levi stared at me with wide eyes.

“What the fuck?” He practically whispered it, staring at me. 

“I’m not going anywhere. As long as you want sessions, I’ll keep coming.” I reassured him.

“I--,” He let out a snarl of frustration, thumping his head against the pillow. “I don’t fucking understand. They said you couldn’t come. That Dr. Dildo wouldn’t let you.” 

“He didn’t want me to today. That’s all.” I tried to soothe him without blatantly sounding like I was treating him like a child. 

“Why not? What did he do to you? You look like absolute shit.” Levi snapped. “Did they fucking hurt you?” The accusation, the fury in his tone made me even more sad for him. One simple miscommunication had shaken his world, and was a threat to his recovery. I could see the fast pace of his breathing, the stiffness of every muscle under the restraints. The fact that he'd be upset if I got hurt was a pleasant surprise. 

“I don’t like doctors, but I had to see mine today. I dissociated. Do you know what that is?” I asked tiredly, and Levi’s eyes flashed.

“You _fucking_ lied to me. You said you weren’t dying.” he accused, voice vibrating with fury and betrayal. 

“I’m not dying.” I said softly. “I--,” I sighed wearily, leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze. If I sat down, I’d be out of his line of sight. Judging by how he was constantly keeping me in his sight, his gaze intense and angry, he’d hate that. “We’re all here for a reason.” I started, voice small. Why was it so hard to tell him this? I’d been able to tell Mikasa and Armin and Conny without too much difficulty. “What happened to me made my health decline. I have to see a doctor frequently, but doctors are a trigger for me. I dissociate all the time.”

“What the fuck is dissociation?” Levi asked angrily, squirming a bit to fruitlessly try and sit up straighter. He was a ticking time bomb. I could see how he’d only gotten more tense, and he tugged unconsciously at his ankles, wanting to be free. 

“I shut down. I don’t know if I’m here or if I’m...there. I can’t feel my body.” I summarized. “That’s why I was here. I couldn’t come back to reality.”

“Those fucking pieces of shit.” Levi snarled, struggling a little bit more, growling when it did nothing. “Why didn’t they just  _ say  _ that?” he was almost yelling now. 

“Privacy. I know nothing about you. You only know what I’ve told you. That’s the rules for sess--,” 

“Fuck the rules!  _ And FUCK YOU _ !” Levi practically roared it, struggling consistently now. I took a step back, unsettled by his anger. 

“Emily.” Annie had opened the door to Levi’s room, Jean following. The sound of Levi’s fury must have carried into the hallway. “You should go.” She told me flatly.

“Fuck off! Stop fucking--just stop! _Fuck!”_ Levi snarled, thrashing uselessly. _“Leave us alone!”_

“I--Levi, you have to calm down. I’m sorry that there was a miscommunication. I’m sorry that I pissed you off. I’m sorry.” I ignored Annie, stepping back closer to his bed. I hoped I was understanding why he was so mad. He’d come to depend on our sessions to alleviate both boredom and memories of his own misfortunes, but he hated the fact that he had. He seemed very independent. When the support he’d expected of me disappeared, he’d gotten angry both at us and at himself for the slip up. “Levi, I--!”

“Emily.” Annie warned, shadowing me. “That’s enough. You know the rules.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself. _Stop,_ please.” I told Levi anxiously, stepping closer yet. “Jean, wait. Please.” I begged as he reached for his pager, clearly ready to call Dr. Smith and a nurse. Levi had stopped struggling so harshly, but was still panting as he squirmed and swore through his teeth. 

“Don’t get any closer.” Jean allowed with a sigh, dropping his hand for the pager. After a moment of looking around, I found the two books I’d left: _A People’s History of the United States_ and _Homage to Catalonia._ I picked up the first one, and found the page Levi had dog-eared. I started reading out loud, leaning against the wall. 

Gradually, Levi stopped struggling, and his harsh, angry breaths quieted. After exchanging looks, Annie and Jean slowly left, closing the door behind them. Levi didn’t ask me to stop reading, which was unusual, but I didn’t stop. I must have read for an hour. I could feel him watching me after a while. It was a little odd, but I’d rather he could stare at me all he wanted, a physical reminder that our sessions weren’t ending. That it was alright. I didn’t notice it, but I slowly inched down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, still so tired from the trauma of the day. 

“Emily. _Emily.”_ Dr. Smith was calling me, the only way I’d realized that I’d fallen asleep. I was still propped against the padded wall in Levi’s room. The book had fallen from my fingers and onto my lap. “Dr. Pyxis told you to rest in between patients, and that if you were tired that you needed to go home.” He rebuked gently. 

“I can’t believe I agree with Dr. Fuckass over there.” Levi grumbled from his bed, making me start. Dr. Smith sighed at the name calling, but didn’t address it. “Get the fuck out of my room; go home.” Levi added, voice back to it’s usual harsh tone. 

“Come on. I’ll have Petra drive you.” Dr. Smith said, offering me a hand up. I blinked dizzily at him before accepting it. “Easy,” he advised, seeing as I stumbled a bit.

“Goodbye, Levi,” I said sleepily, setting the book on the floor.

“Bye.” he muttered, and then the door had swung shut. Petra drove me home, with Moblit following us in my car. I dozed on the ride home, but insisted that I could let myself into my apartment on my own. Once I was inside, I drank a glass of water, thinking of Dr. Pyxis. I knew that the stress, my recent lack of sleep, and the blood draw from the day would most likely result in me catching some sort of cold. Water finished, I fell into bed, exhausted.

I spent my day off thinking of Levi. He’d managed to calm down after being so upset, which was progress that couldn’t be overlooked. The standard time in that amount of restraints after a major violent episode was 72 hours, or 48 with a sedative, but if he’d shown a huge improvement they might reward him with a shorter amount of time. I hoped that they had; seeing _anyone_ strapped down like that made my insides feel sick. 

My only contact for the day was talking to Mr. Chatterjee and asking him if I could borrow more books. I explained the situation as best I could, and Mr. Chatterjee loaded me with books and wished me well.

\--

“Hello, Emily!” Christa greeted me with a wide smile as I walked back into Sina Mental Health. She’d been talking to Ymir, one of the orderlies, and I found that I was smiling at the sight of them. It was rare for me to do it unconsciously, but Ymir and Christa never failed to make me smile. They were dating, and I found their relationship constantly fascinating. “I have paperwork here for you, from Dr. Pyxis.” She passed me a sealed envelope.

“Thanks,” I said, tucking it into one of the books I’d brought; I didn’t want to deal with it. Even just thinking of the blood work results made me think about getting poked, and then needles, and then worse memories.

\--

Armin was sweet. He and I met back in the garden, and he taught me how to make a flower crown out of the clover growing around the edge of an actual flower bed. We gave the crown to Jean, who was passing by. Armin, bless him, actually giggled when Jean put it on. It was one of the few times I’d ever heard him laugh, and I longed to hear that sound again.

Mikasa and I talked about my one lung, and if I’d be able to train for a marathon. I reassured her that I’d be slower to build endurance, and that I’d need more conditioning to get to the same pace as her, but that I’d be just fine. She looked disbelieving, so I told her I’d find some literature for her to read on living with only one lung.

Conny grinned at me, looking proud of himself, as I stepped into his room. It was dark, but it was lit by one lamp. He had it in one corner, and he was in the opposite corner, but he had an actual constant light source in there besides a flashlight. “Dude. _Nice.”_ I told him, and he slapped me a high-five. 

Bertl hadn’t understood the book on sign language at first, but when he did, he sent me such a look of relief that I nearly asked to hug him. Dr. Smith had signed off on giving him earplugs, and that seemed to help him relax. He flipped the book open, and we sat side by side, learning the basic greetings in sign language and greeting each other back and forth. We went through the alphabet, and we decided that my name would be just the letter ‘e’ and his name would be just the letter ‘b’. He offered me a shy but sincere smile when I left, and it put me in an excellent mood.

Then Dr. Smith asked to talk to me before I saw Levi.

“I understand that you want to help Levi,” He said, looking troubled. “But yesterday Annie told you to leave and you refused.”

It was the Golden Rule: If a staff member told you to do something, especially when involving the health and safety of another patient, you were supposed to obey without question. It was for the sake and safety for the staff as well.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I had just understood why he was upset. I didn’t want to leave without trying to apologize. He’d lost so much trust in us already; I didn’t want to be the cause of a further regression.”

“I understand.” Dr. Smith said, sending me a tired kind of smile. “Next time, you must listen to them, no matter what, alright?”

“I promise. It won’t happen again.” I said seriously, and he nodded his approval. Jean and Annie met me at Levi’s room, and Annie let me in, sending me a look that was hard to read.

“Good afternoon, Levi,” I said, relieved to see that he was no longer completely restrained. He was back in just his jacket, leaning against the wall like he usually was.

“Hi. You look less shitty.” he grunted, staring.

“I feel less shitty.” I admitted, sitting across from him instead of the usual five-feet back. “I--I just wanted to apologize again.” I said, wanting to try and speak as much as possible before he demanded the usual silence. “Dr. Smith gave me the chance to come back to all the patients I visit and tell them personally that I wouldn’t be in for the next session. I didn’t think I could do it.” I glanced away from him. “I should have tried anyway.”

“I freaked out.” Levi said gruffly after a few seconds. “I shouldn’t have. Sorry.”

“I’m just glad it’s over.” I said softly. I glanced down at the books I’d brought. “ _The Closing of the American Mind,_ or  _Dispatches?”_

“Whatever.” Levi said, shrugging in his jacket again. “Those are from Chatterjee again, aren’t they?” he asked as I selected _The Closing of the American Mind._

“How’d you know?” I asked curiously.

“They smell like old person.” he said flatly, wrinkling his nose a bit. I couldn’t help it; I laughed quietly, flipping through the forward and to the first chapter. I went to place the book, but the envelope of my bloodwork results slid out and directly into his lap.

“Oh! I’d forgotten all about that. I’m so sorry.” I said, mortified.

“What is it?” Levi asked, blinking down at the envelope. He tugged a bit at his jacket, as if he wanted to pick it up and look for himself.

“Bloodwork results.” I mumbled, not looking at him. The thought of blood, of the prick and the damaging of skin, made me shiver. I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about the cold, and the pain. About the hangar and the bathtub. About the _smell_ of the gore.

“And you didn’t open it right away? Are you stupid or something?” He asked, sounding outraged. When I didn’t say anything, he demanded, “Open it.”

_Antiseptic. A scalpel. Blood._

“I don’t want to.” I whispered. “I’m scared.”

Levi, who’d inhaled to most likely yell at me, went rigid at my admission. He knew that I’d been an in-bed patient at Sina, but I’d never shown traditionally “crazy” signs that most people, even fellow patients, looked for. I was timid, and quiet, but I appeared fairly normal. The person before him now, trembling and breathing in measured gasps, was not normal.

“Emily?” he asked, sounding surprised.

Three breaths in. Three breaths out.

“I--I’m okay.” I said determinedly, even if my voice was shaking as much as my hands. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, voice low.

“I’m better than this. I’m…” I took a deep breath, digging my fingernails into my knees.

“If you have to go, go.” He said, sounding surprisingly worried. “Do I need to call someone?” he asked when I closed my eyes. “Emily,” he called my name when I still didn’t say anything.

“Sh-shut up, please.” I whispered, asking for a moment the way he’d asked me. We lapsed into silence. After a while, my breaths evened out, and the threat of dissociation passed. I felt a pang of despair; I’d been triggered so quickly, and with unusual severity. “I was doing so well,” I whispered, disappointed.

“Are you in a straightjacket?” Levi asked humorlessly. “You’re doing better than I am.” I didn’t say anything. I was too frustrated. I hadn’t improved as much as I’d wanted at my appointment, and now this? “Hey.” Levi’s foot nudged my knee, making me start and open my eyes. “It’s okay.” He said gruffly, his normally flat expression softening somewhat.

“Okay.” I agreed softly. “Alright. Can I take the envelope?” I asked before reaching over. I had no idea if touch was a trigger for him.

“Yeah.” He muttered. I reached over and took it, being careful not to actually touch him. I hesitated, but then opened it, unfolding the paper within.

I had a low white blood cell count, as usual. The spleen was important for lymphocyte development; white blood cells were sent there to 'grow up' and prepare to fight infections. Without it, my immune cells were slow to mature or didn't mature at all. My remaining kidney was still working well. It was an average report, a clean bill of health. I’d nearly had an episode over nothing. “It’s all normal.” I said quietly. I set the pages aside, and put the book on his legs.

He ignored it.

“I've fought people since I was a kid.” He said after a long silence, tone furious, but not with me. “It was a fight club.”

I felt a pang of grief for him. Who made children fight? How long had he been forced to do something like that? We sat in quiet for a long time. Levi’s breaths had gotten fast and angry again, but he slowly started to calm down.

“I’m so sorry,” I said sadly, quietly. The thought of Levi being in a constantly violent environment, constantly being injured and forced to fight, made my eyes spark with tears. It also made me think of Armin. The blond boy would be terrified of Levi at first glance, but they’d both suffered through unspeakable violence. Maybe they could connect better than I could?

It took me a moment to realize that Levi was looking at me...waiting. He wanted information, but he wasn’t going to demand it of me. I took a deep breath, and then let it out.

“My organs.” I whispered, abdomen twisting with phantom pain. I gripped myself, trying to make the feeling disappear so that I would remain in the present. “They took my organs.” I swiped at my eyes. “A kidney, a lung. Skin. My spleen. Parts of my liver.” Levi inhaled sharply at the news.

“I--,” Levi growled something very dark under his breath, slamming his head back against the padded wall. _“Fuck.”_ He summed up his thoughts on my past with a snarl, squirming against his jacket. It was clear he wanted to punch away his feelings. 

“Yeah.” I agreed weakly, heavily. We didn't say anything else after that.


	5. Episode and Dissociation

A few days later, Dr. Smith stopped me in the hallway before I went to Levi’s room. “Levi has started volunteering information during his official therapy sessions, Emily.” Dr. Smith told me. He put a hand on my shoulder. “I am both very proud and impressed.” He said earnestly, smiling gently. 

“Does he still call you names?” I asked, wincing at the thought. Along with Dr. Dildo and Dr. Fuckass, Levi had also referred to Dr. Smith as ‘Dr. Dickhead’ and ‘Dr. Douchebag’. I’d never been a fan of cursing myself, and so his nicknames had always made me cringe a little, especially because I respected Dr. Smith so much. 

“Yes.” Dr. Smith laughed, not at all bothered by it. “But what do I always say?” 

“Any step in the right direction is progress.” I recited dryly, and Dr. Smith chuckled. 

“Levi has already shown his distaste for my motto, but that means he’s listening. You’ve really helped to start his recovery, Emily. You should be proud of yourself.” he told me, and the proud expression he wore lifted my spirits. “Keep up the excellent work. If you ever grow tired of computers, I think you would make a great psychologist.” 

“Conny has rubbed off on you, hasn’t he?” I suggested, and he patted my shoulder just once before continuing on his way. Smiling to myself, I met Annie and Jean in front of Levi’s room, and Annie unlocked the door and let me in. 

“Good afternoon, Levi,” I greeted him, coming in and sitting down in front of him.

“What are you smiling for?” he asked, half suspiciously. He was staring at me like I’d grown a second head. 

“Dr. Smith just told me that you’ve started talking to him.” I explained. “I’m happy for you.” If he was still in a jacket for our sessions, he was still striking out against staff, but talking about his problems would hopefully help him control his anger. 

“He’s a fucking asshole.” Levi growled, squirming a bit in his jacket to sit up straighter. 

“Um. _A Theory of Justice_ or _How to Cook a Wolf?”_ I offered him his choices instead of commenting on his opinion of Dr. Smith. 

“First one. Second sounds fucking weird.” Levi commented. I opened the book, flipping to the first chapter. We read in silence for a bit, as per our usual routine. Ever since we’d hesitatingly started to share what had happened to us, we hadn’t said anything else about it since. I wasn’t about to share anything else, and I wasn’t going to ask Levi for more details until he felt comfortable enough to share them.

I’d flipped the next page for him only a few seconds previously when he suddenly went rigid, sucking a breath in angrily through his teeth. “Eren.” he said, voice shaking. _“Eren.”_

“Levi?” I asked softly, unsure of what was wrong. A quick glance down at his book showed that one of the characters in his book was called Eren. My stomach sank as every muscle in Levi’s body coiled, as if ready to strike out. I’d clearly triggered him on accident. Whoever ‘Eren’ was, he had to be someone from Levi’s past.

He let out a heartbreaking noise, a mix between a growl and and a sob, eyes slamming shut. He was shaking, struggling in his jacket, and when the same noise escaped him again, more of a sob this time, I stood up to leave. Dr. Smith had warned me that I couldn’t bend the rules again, but I hesitated, wanting to help. Standing over him like that when he was upset ended up being a huge mistake.

I never even saw it coming. In an instant Levi raised a foot and _kicked_ me as hard as he was capable of, right in the torso. The thud of him kicking me was accompanied by a sick sounding crack, and my abdomen flared with agony. I cried out in pain, knocked right off my feet. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. The door opened instantly, and I heard Jean curse. “Patient injured.” I heard him report into his pager as he crouched next to me. 

_Agony. I couldn’t feel anything but my nerve endings withering away. My extremities, so cold, were numb, burning a bit. My abdomen, where they’d cut it open, felt like a black hole, ripping me apart from the inside._

“Stay still.” Annie was ordering coldly, but not to me. I flinched when a hand took my pulse at my wrist- it was Jean. 

“Emily? Stay with us, Emily.” Jean told me, voice low and calm. 

_The scalpel. The ice block. The first slice-- it made me scream out, a painful overstimulation of nerves that were already in agony. Hands were reaching into the incision, probing around._

“Emily, you are safe here. No one is touching you.” Dr. Smith’s voice was oddly hallucinogenic as I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, curling in on myself with a groan, gasping desperately for oxygen. My throat felt awful- I’d screamed myself hoarse. The hangar was echoey, the bathtub I was lying in cold and hard. “Page Dr. Pyxis.” he ordered someone, voice so low I almost didn’t catch it. “Annie, do we need to transfer him?” 

“No.” Annie responded. 

_They were going to take my eye. I heard them talking about it. If I had the energy, I would have screamed and begged._

I shut down completely, going limp in an instant. If I withdrew, nothing else existed but me. I was huddled in the dark, in the cold, but I was whole. I was safe inside my head. They couldn't take my eye if I was in my head. 

“She’s completely dissociated.” Dr. Smith sounded disappointed, and very far away. Hands probed my abdomen, lifting my shirt clear. The hands palpated around a spot that flared sharply with pain, but I only reacted inside my mind; my body didn’t so much as twitch, even though the pain made me want to retch. 

Someone gently opened one of my eyes and checked it with a penlight. I faintly remembered that the reaction time was always slow. 

“I--I’m sorry.” A voice, shaky and desperate. “I didn’t-- is she--?” 

“Levi, I do not have the time to discuss this with you right now.” Dr. Smith sounded shockingly cold-hearted, the only sign that he was upset. “Try taking three breaths in and releasing three breaths out after five seconds.” 

“Hmm.” Dr. Pyxis said, and a cold stethoscope touched my skin, on the spot radiating pain. “Hmm.” He repeated after listening, sounding much more concerned. “Marco, if you’d assist me?” He asked. Gentle hands moved me onto something. When I was lifted, I realized it was a stretcher. What happened next was hell: I could smell antiseptic constantly, feel the sterile air closing in around me. It was a dead giveaway that I was booked back into the hospital. I felt a needle prick my skin, on my hand, and my body and mind went fuzzy. 

\-- 

_I was warm. Or was I cold? My mind alternated between the two, unable to discern where I was, let alone what temperature._

“Hello there, Ms. Emily.” 

_Was that… Mr. Chatterjee?_

“Some nice young lady came over to the Apartment Office and asked for me to stop by.” It _was_ Mr. Chatterjee. “She said you were in some kind of accident through your volunteer work, and that you might be able to hear visitors.” He coughed a bit. “She also said that you didn’t have anyone to visit you.” 

_The hangar was quiet. The ice was melting in my bathtub. I could smell the blood that had congealed on the cold surface. If I stayed withdrawn, what was happening wasn't real. It was just me, alone, in my head. I was safe._

“I’m not sure what happened to you, but I know that you’re a very nice young woman.” Mr. Chatterjee continued. “If you can hear me, your Doctor said that you might be thinking that you’re safer in your mind then you are out here.” he sighed a little. “You may not believe an old man, but I promise that it’s quite safe out here. The only cause for concern is that old bat Dorothy trying to cheat in the bingo hall.” 

I wasn't cold. I was warm. I was fuzzy. 

“Well.” Mr. Chatterjee got to his feet with a low groan. “I’m off. I’ll be back, young lady. You best get better soon, or no one will be asking for my books.” He reprimanded lightly, chuckling before making his way slowly out the door. 

\-- 

_“A skin graft. They’re all the rage.” One of the surgeons._

_“Take it from her back. Do a neater job this time. You kill her and we lose money.” The scalpel cut into my flesh._

“Hi, Emily.” It was Christa. “It’s been a few days now.” She sounded sad. 

“You have two broken ribs.” That was Ymir, cool and calculated as always. “You had a small amount of hemorrhaging too. If you could try to come out and tell us more about how you’re feeling, Dr. Pyxis could treat you more effectively.” 

After a moment, a sigh. 

“Christa, you can’t let this get to you.” Ymir said, voice low. “You can’t bring work home with you.” 

“I’m not at home. I’m at work.” 

“It’s your day off, Christa.” Ymir reminded her, and I heard the sound of a gentle kiss. “I know you’ve grown close to a lot of the patients here, but blaming yourself for everything isn’t healthy.” 

\-- 

“This is Dr. Erwin Smith, Session Two.” A rasp of a pen on paper. “Patient Emily Linwood is still dissociated, and has shown no signs of consciousness, even during intubation. Considering the severity of her previous dissociations, the first session involved purposefully trying to create a conscious response using triggers Emily reported during her first recovery period.” A sigh, tired. “There was no response.” 

_ “I-- scalpels. Needles.” My voice was shaking, and a brief whimper escaped. He’d asked me to list my triggers. He knew them all already, but saying them would help me. _

_“You’re doing fine, Emily. Deep breaths. Only speak when you’re ready.” Dr. Smith encouraged, voice calm and quiet._

_“Scrubs.” I took three breaths in, like he’d been coaching, and held the oxygen for a few seconds before letting three, measured puffs of air back out. Dr. Smith nodded his encouragement of my method. “Antiseptic. Blood. Ice. Cold.”_

“Dr. Smith?” I whispered. I knew that if I thought that I was recalling a previous therapy session that, logically, I couldn’t be in the hangar. That had to be behind me. My anxiety, ugly and powerful, tried to convince me otherwise.

An intake of breath.

“Yes, I’m here.” Dr. Smith answered, voice as calm as always. “Are you here with me?”

“I--?” I floundered, unsure on where to begin when all I wanted to do was clam up and never come out again. “Where…?”

“You finished your primary recovery plan almost one year ago.” Dr. Smith started. “You have been returning every other day for secondary partnered therapy.” He was writing as he was speaking. “There was an accident regarding another patient, and you were readmitted, but only to the General Hospital.” He sounded slightly unhappy now, but was trying not to. “You’ve been dissociated for five days.”

_Antiseptic._

No. I didn’t want that anymore. I didn’t want to be alone in my head, afraid and in pain. I wanted to feel the sun on my face. I wanted to code websites. I wanted to tell jokes with Conny, run a marathon with Mikasa, and make flower crowns with Armin. I wanted to learn sign language to communicate with Bertl.

It was bright in my room. I suddenly sympathized with Conny, closing my eyes again. My abdomen on the right side was throbbing intermittently, but I was undeniably warm. I didn’t have any bean bags, but an electric blanket was tucked around me. “I’ve dimmed the lights.” Dr. Smith informed me, and I trusted him enough to crack my eyes open again. He offered me his usual gentle smile. “You came back all on your own.” He praised.

“I…” I winced. Inhaling to speak made the pain worse. “I didn’t want to be in my head anymore.” I whispered.

“I’m very glad you feel that way.” Dr. Smith said, writing something down. “Can you tell me more about how you are feeling?”

“My ribs hurt.” I said faintly after a few seconds. When I remembered why, I felt my eyes prick with tears. Levi had _attacked_ me. 

“I’ve paged Dr. Pyxis. He’ll fix that for you.” Dr. Smith reassured. “Anything else you think you can tell me?”

“Mmm.” I shook my head against the pillow, closing my eyes again. “I’m tired.” I whispered. The door opened, and closed quietly.

"Emily is awake, Dot.” Dr. Smith called Dr. Pyxis by his first name. “She’s reporting feeling some pain.”

“I see. It’s good to have you back, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis said warmly. “Can you put your pain on a scale for me? Or tell me where you are feeling it?”

“My ribs. Right side.” My eyes fluttered open. “Seven out of ten.” Dr. Pyxis was jotting down notes on clipboard, nodding in time with the information I was giving him.

“Right.” he smiled behind his mustache before going over and knocking on the door. One of the nurses, Thomas, came in, offering me a small smile. In his hand, covered with a linen, was most likely a syringe. Even with it covered, I closed my eyes again at the thought of being injected. “It’s time for the part that no one likes.” Dr. Pyxis said remorsefully. “I’m going to ease your hand out from under that blanket. I’m not going to move it far. Thomas here is going to add a painkiller to your IV.”

“Thanks. Please-- be quick.” I whispered, begging.

Dr. Pyxis took my hand, physically lacing his wrinkly fingers through mine. He brought it out slowly, minding my side, and just enough so that our hands were outside of the blanket. I heard Thomas approach, and a needle uncapping. The sound made me tense--

_"Not enough painkiller this time.” A surgeon grunted._

_“Space it out then. If she dies, we lose money. You know that.”_

“Done.” Dr. Pyxis patted my hand, now back under the blanket. “Are you still with us?”

"Yes.” I agreed, although sleepily. I could already feel whatever they’d given me. It was equal parts terrifying and relieving to feel the pain leeching away.

"Try and get some rest, Emily.” Dr. Smith was saying, his voice lower than usual as I fell asleep. 


	6. The First Letter

I recovered mentally much quicker than I’d expected. The threat of dissociation was constant, which had me always on edge, but I was able to tamp down most of my urges. When I couldn’t, I had the constant heat of the blanket, usually a staff member in the room to provide conversation, or I was able to help myself, all on my own. Dr. Pyxis stopped trying to wrap my ribs to support them, and that helped; even the sensation of bandage around my ribs had made me dissociate. Dr. Smith had screened me carefully, trying to discern if ‘kicking’ or ‘Levi’ had made it onto my list of triggers, but they hadn’t. I knew that he hadn’t meant to. He’d been triggered. In the depths of an episode, it was never your fault, especially for someone with so little control over their emotions. 

My physical recovery was different. My remaining lung had suffered a bit of damage from two of my ribs breaking under the force of Levi’s kick. Combined with an immune system that was slow to promote healing and prevent infections, I was slow to get my strength back, which meant that until Dr. Pyxis declared me healthy to live on my own again in my apartment, I was back on bed rest in Sina Mental Health. 

Armin visited. He was nervous in a new place, but once we’d gotten my room all to myself he’d calmed a bit. He was so worried for me, and he’d cried a bit, but he was a soothing presence. He hadn’t been told exactly why I was back in the Hospital- just that I’d had an accident with another patient and that the secondary therapy track was currently under review. However, Armin was an incredibly intelligent individual; it hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the patient I’d been seeing with a history of violence had struck out against me. 

Mikasa was furious. She had been taken off of bedrest while I was dissociated, and she paced around in circles. I could sit up at that point, and I watched her pace. “If I ever meet the man who kicked you, I’ll…” She trailed off, frustrated. “I want to protect the people I care about. I can’t do that in here.” 

“Then that’s just another reason for you to recover. Right?” I said quietly, and she shot me a look. 

“You sound like Dr. Smith.” She said, frowning. That made me laugh, just a little, even if it made me wince. 

“I’ve been in your shoes. He told me the same things I’m telling you.” I reminded her. “It’s maddening and it feels very unhelpful, but before you know it you’ve already improved.” 

Conny wrote me a letter. It was full of jokes and get well wishes. Towards the end, he’d written a small paragraph on how he now had two lamps. He didn’t have them both on all the time, but they were always in his room. The thought of him making that much progress made me very, very happy. 

Apparently Bertl had started working with a doctor who specialized in deaf medicine, even though Bertl could still hear. He’d picked up sign language as if he’d never known English. Combined with earplugs, he was communicating more than he ever had before. He had also written a letter, in which he thanked me and asked me to get better soon. 

Even Mr. Chatterjee came back. He brought a chess set and taught me how to play. All I had to do was ask him about Dorothy and bingo and he could easily fill an hour with discussion on her cheating habits.

In the back of my mind, the issue of Levi was constantly there. I was worried about him. When I asked Dr. Smith about it, he’d explained very gravely that the secondary partnered therapy program had undergone a review, and the board of directors was considering installing a ‘one-strike’ rule. Under the proposed rule, Levi had hurt another patient and so he’d be barred from any other secondary therapy for almost a year.

I’d explained to him as thoroughly as I could manage that Levi hadn’t attacked me on purpose. I told him about the book, and how Levi had reacted to the name ‘Eren’. When I’d stood up to leave, my presence standing over Levi had been enough to make him lash out. My opinion on his mental health didn’t mean much (I wasn’t a psychologist), but I knew a triggered reaction when I saw one. Patients at SMH were always reminded that episodes due to a trigger were _never_ their fault, and this was no different. 

Dr. Smith had recorded our conversation, and said that he’d take it to a board meeting to discuss it, but I knew that I couldn't wait that long. I asked Thomas for a pen and paper, and I wrote Levi a letter, hoping to do...something. I wasn't proud enough to think that my letter alone would calm him down, but I had to try something. I wanted him to know that I didn't hate him, and that it wasn't his fault.

I begged Jean to take the letter to Levi for me. Technically, Levi was barred from all forms of communication. Jean would have to sneak him the letter on one of his daily rotations. I begged and pestered and bothered Jean until he agreed to take it.

Until I heard a reply back, I'd just have to wait and hope. 


	7. Jean's Delivery

\--

**

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I muttered. Emily had treated me to the largest puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. She’d begged me to deliver a letter to that one patient, Ackerman. I’d tried justifying why it was a bad idea, saying that he’d been isolated as much as was legal; he’d completely melted down after attacking her. Emily had looked worried at that, and had just insisted further that Ackerman needed to make non-violent contact. “Please,” She’d asked softly, looking all small and frail in her hospital bed.

How could I have said no to that?

On my daily rotation to check for any kind of self-inflicted wounds due to the medical restraints, I stopped at Ackerman’s room. “Fuck off, horse face,” he snarled, predictably, as soon as I stepped in. The sound was muffled a bit; he’d _bit_ Annie and so he’d been muzzled. Annie, who was ex-military, had to leave the room before her instincts told her to fight back. She was such a scary person when she wanted to be- I hadn’t done shit to her and I’d still felt afraid.

“Hello to you too, Ackerman.” I sighed, starting at his ankles. He jerked at the sensation of someone touching him and growled. I checked all of the contact points of the restraints, unable to hold back a pang of pity. The man hadn’t always been this wild. He’d only been put on a sedative/non-restrained and restrained cycle when he’d turned to self-harm. “Ackerman. I’ve got a letter for you. It’s from Emily.” I told him once I was done.

His eyes narrowed at me. I dug the letter out of my scrubs pocket and showed it to him, front and back. Emily had written his name, ‘Levi’, in small, neat print on the front.

“If you think this letter is going to trigger you, you need to say something now.” I said calmly. “I’m bending the rules already; if you have an episode because of this, and they ask me why, I legally have to tell them. Emily would get in trouble.” Some of Ackerman’s war-like expression faded at my remark. “So, Ackerman. Will this letter trigger you?”

“I don’t know what it’s about. If it is triggering, I’ll tell you to piss off.” He said impatiently, but it was the first sentence in a long time when he hadn’t sworn at me. He was already exhibiting a great amount of responsibility- he wanted control, and wanted to warn me about an impending episode. Emily had an influence on him that was probably more powerful than she knew.

I slid my finger under the seal and pulled it across, opening the envelope. I unfolded the sheets of paper, cleared my throat, and started reading.

 

 

Ackerman let out an angry snort. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was already being triggered, but he motioned me on with a jerk of his head.

 

 

 

“She’s got a point, you know.”

“Shut up,” Ackerman snapped, glaring at me.

 

 

 

“Fucking idiot.” Ackerman mumbled, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t her fucking fault.”

 

 

 

“Wait.” Ackerman said, and I glanced up from the letter. He was working his jaw, clearly trying to find the words to say something. “Before she bullshits me, I need to know how bad she really is.” He said finally.

“Patient confidentiality. I can’t tell you anything about Emily, or her condition.” I answered automatically. “What you get in this letter is it, Ackerman.”

“ _Fuck_ you.” He groaned, frustrated, smacking his head back against the pillow.

In way of reply, I just continued reading.

 

 

 

There was a break on the paper, and a few dots of ink, signifying that she’d put down her pen and then picked it back up several times.

 

 

 

Ackerman wrinkled his nose at that. I paused, holding the letter a bit closer to my face. Her printing had suddenly gotten smaller.

 

 

 

My head shot up when Ackerman made a strange noise. I was sure that he was about to have an episode, but visual confirmation showed that he wasn’t. To my surprise and discomfort, his eyes were visibly wet. To avoid a confrontation about it, I just kept reading, listening carefully for any signs that he’d been triggered.

 

 

 

“Man,” I complained, squinting. The print had gotten smaller yet.

 

 

 

I folded the letter, and then reached into my pocket for a tissue when I saw that the wetness in Ackerman’s eyes had overflowed. “I’m going to clear your face off, alright? Please don’t try and bite me.” I said quietly, undoing the buckles and taking off the muzzle. I kept one hand under his chin with pressure, a safeguard against him opening his mouth to chomp down on my fingers. To my surprise, he didn’t even flinch. I wiped the tears off. “Blow your nose,” I prompted, putting the tissue over his nose.

Ackerman did as directed, keeping his eyes shut. I balled up the used tissue in a clean one to be thrown away later.

“This is your letter, Ackerman, but I can’t leave it here with you until you’re cleared for it. If someone else found it, we’d all be in trouble. Does that make sense to you?”

“Yeah.” Ackerman muttered, and let out an irritated noise as I buckled the muzzle back on. He squirmed a bit in the restraints, but settled down with a muffled curse.

“I’ll tell you whatever I can as soon as I know it. Take it easy.” I told him, heading for the door.

“Jean.” Ackerman called me by _name,_ not by ‘ugly ass motherfucker’ or ‘pony boy’. It was the first time he’d ever done such a thing. “Thanks.” He uttered, voice low.

“It was my pleasure.” I said, unlocking the door and leaving.


	8. Correspondence

“I have very good news, Emily.” Dr. Smith said as he came into my room. It had been almost four days since Jean had delivered my letter, and I’d predictably heard nothing. It was hard not to speculate, and so I read a lot to try and take my mind off of it. I’d always loved fiction, but I’d been reading non-fiction with Levi for so long that I missed it. However, the expression on Dr. Smith’s face had my full attention. “Levi has recovered enough to resume secondary partnered therapy.” He said.

I laughed in relief, closing my eyes. I’d never been so  _ happy  _ that someone had proven everyone wrong, and had worked hard to pull himself up. I was sure that making that amount of progress so quickly had been incredibly difficult for Levi. It was corny, but I was proud of him. Better yet, if Dr. Smith was telling me that, it meant that Levi had been cleared to resume sessions with  _ me.  _

“I thought that might cheer you up.” Dr. Smith said, sounding just as pleased as I was. “But I do have to reprimand you as well.” 

“What?” I asked, opening my eyes, suddenly worried. Had I dissociated in my sleep again?

“As soon as Levi was taken off of a self-harm cycle, Jean came and told me about a letter.” Dr. Smith said, fixing me with a look. 

“Oh.” I said, feeling like a child who’d been caught stealing sweets. He’d warned me previously not to bend the rules, and I’d promised not to. 

“Yes, ‘oh’.” Dr. Smith echoed. “It was extremely irresponsible of you to put Jean in that position. I understand that you felt some amount of guilt for what happened with Levi, but you can’t make staff risk their jobs like that.” He said sternly.

“Would apologizing make a difference?” I asked weakly.

“You know that it does.” Dr. Smith said in a softer tone. “If I didn’t have my suspicions that Levi’s sudden and rapid improvement had something to do with hearing the contents of that letter, I would be forced to punish you for blatantly disregarding the rules.” He said after a moment. 

I waited for his verdict, fidgeting uncomfortably with the edge of the electric blanket. 

“This isn’t meant to be a punishment, but for you I know it will be. I don’t want you think that I’m being vindictive, but I can’t let what you did go without some sort of reprimand.” Dr. Smith said with a sigh. “Therefore, until Dr. Pyxis allows you to come off bed rest, you cannot write to Levi.”

“I--!” I protested, upset. “Not at all? He’ll have another episode! I’m so far away from Dr. Pyxis allowing  _ anything!” _

“Calm down, Emily. I didn’t say that Levi couldn’t write to you, only that you can’t write back.” Dr. Smith said carefully, clearly trying to work around his own punishment. “Besides, you are further along than you realize.” he added gently. When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “I’ve already told Levi all of this. I did so yesterday, in fact.”

My head shot up to look at him, convinced that Dr. Smith would tell me that he’d had an episode. The smile on his face told me the opposite. 

“He was understandably upset at first, and insisted that I should punish him instead. However, when I told him that he had been cleared to have a pen and paper in his room, we reached a consensus.” Dr. Smith summarized.

“He’s clear to have a pen? I thought he had self-harmed.” I said, thrilled by the news. 

“He did.” Dr. Smith agreed, “but he also spent almost two hours explaining to me why he’d resorted to self-harm, and why he knew that it had been the wrong thing to do.” He patted my hand. “Sometimes when we slip and fall, we get right back up again.”

“You should write a book.” I told him sincerely, and he laughed, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out an envelope.

“This is for you. I’m sure more will be heading your way.” He said, handing it to me. Angular script on the front spelled out my name. “Also, Christa should be by sometime today. We officially got permission to enter your apartment. She’ll be bringing over your laptop computer so that you can work on bed-rest.”

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, excited by the news. I was horrifically bored, even with books.

“Keep up the good work, Emily. You’re doing so much better than you know.” Dr. Smith said in way of goodbye, sending me that proud look before leaving. I instantly tore open the envelope, pulling out several sheets of paper.

 

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that, wincing when it made my side flare unpleasantly. It was so oddly reassuring to be addressed so harshly; I’d come to miss it.

 

There were a few lines crossed out too heavily for me to make out.

 

 

I stared at the word, printed so neatly on the page. I couldn’t imagine the effort it must have taken to write about that person, even just one sentence.

I _really_ wished I could write back, or that I could see him in person. If I could force myself to heal faster, I would. 

 

I put down the letter briefly, snuggling the blanket over my head to ignore the phantom pain along my stomach, or the slick, disgusting feeling of cold going down my spine. It took me a few minutes of breathing in measured puffs, three in, three out, before I could pick the letter back up.

  

A whole paragraph was scratched out. The pen had dug so far into the paper it almost tore clean through.

 

 

After a big space, Levi kept writing.

 

\--

The next day, I was impatient for another letter. Christa had shown up with my computer, and I had worked for a little bit, but thoughts of Levi kept coming back. With a computer in front of me, it was tempting, _so_ tempting, to search for recent news articles about a fight ring being busted. I knew that if I dug around enough, I could find information on what had happened, and if I was really lucky, I could learn about Eren. 

I then felt extremely guilty for thinking about nosing around in Levi’s business behind his back. I considered him my friend- and what kind of friend would do such a thing? It certainly wasn’t for Levi’s own good; he’d recovered a lot from his breakdown, almost to a point where he was in a better state of mind than when he had begun talking to Dr. Smith in the first place. 

 Armin came for a surprise visit, and he asked if he could braid my hair. For a boy who had first come to SMH with a fear of someone even looking at him, he’d sure come a long way. With the help of Reiner, who literally picked me up and sat me in a chair instead of my bed, Armin could do as he pleased. The dreaded IV that I hated looking at was carefully maneuvered behind me, and the electric blanket was draped over me. At his own pace, Armin combed out my hair. He had to stop a few times, but he didn’t get up and walk away.

 “You have nice hair,” He said softly as he started to divide it into what felt like a crazy number of sections. I only knew a three-part braid, and my attempts at creating one were usually pathetic. “Hi, Jean,” he greeted as he came in. Jean was graced with yet another flower crown-- Armin must have spent some time in the garden. The fact that Jean wore it for the rest of his shift never failed to perk Armin up. 

“I feel like a postman, not an orderly.” Jean grumbled, passing me an envelope. “Annie wanted to know how you were doing.” He said as I took the envelope.

“Really?” I asked. Annie was intimidating at best. I’d gotten over my fear of the staff of SMH gradually, and she’d been one of the last members I’d finally grown to trust. I could never tell what she was thinking or feeling.

“Yup.” Jean said, and then whistled through his teeth. “That’s one heck of a braid, Armin.” He commented, and Armin stammered behind me, embarrassed.

“It--it’s nothing, really.” He said modestly. I hadn’t even felt him braiding as we’d talked, but when I raised a hand and ran a finger over the plait, I felt my eyebrows shoot up. It was complicated and thick, and felt more like a tapestry than a braid. 

“Armin, this is incredible!” I said in surprise, feeling over it one more time. Everything was even, and not a hair was out of place. “Thank you!” 

Armin stammered a bit more, and I was sure that he was blushing furiously. 

“Hey. Annie. If I don’t have an answer she’ll be scary.” Jean reminded me. 

“Oh, sorry!” I apologized. “I’m fine, I guess. I’ve stopped dissociating so much. Dr. Pyxis says I might be off bed rest by the end of the week.”

“That’s great.” Jean said, flashing a crooked smile. “I’ll let her know. You two stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Bye,” Armin said shyly, and Jean waved on his way out the door. “Can I ask who that letter is from?” He asked after a moment of comfortable silence. 

“Hmm? Oh, this is from one of my other patients.” I said, lifting the letter to examine it. My name was printed on the front of the envelope again in familiar, angular script. 

“Is that the one who hurt you?” Armin asked, voice small. 

“I--yes, it is.” I admitted, focusing on the way the pen had pressed into the paper. “He was triggered unintentionally; he didn’t mean to.” I winced at the memory, of the  _ crack  _ of bones breaking. “He’s come really far now.”

“You’re so brave.” Armin whispered. “I don’t know how you can stand to talk to him.”

“Violence isn’t a trigger for me.” I answered, turning a bit to look at him, even though it made my side ache. “It’s much more difficult for you to imagine, but I actually like meeting with him." 

“You should read that.” Armin said after a moment, getting up. “I’m sure you’ve been waiting for it.” he added, fiddling with the hem of his scrubs and shooting me a weak smile.  

“You can stay if you want, Armin. I have all day to read this,” I offered, but he shook his head. 

“It’s alright. I’m tired anyway.” He said. “I’ll tell Reiner that we’re finished.” He lingered in the doorway. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“Of course you can. I’ll see you then,” I said, and he smiled with a little more strength before ducking out. Reiner, who had been waiting for him across the hall, came back in and lifted me back into bed. As soon as he shut the door behind him, I opened Levi’s letter.

 

 

I flipped to the next page, smiling to myself.

 

 

 

I spent the rest of the day trying to tamp down my curiosity to Google any news articles about the fight club ring being busted. Levi had tried so hard to tell me about Eren he’d nearly had an episode. I was proud that he’d calmed himself down, and that he’d been strong enough to tell me about it. I didn’t want to betray his trust by rooting around for information behind his back. I wanted him to feel safe in my sessions; if I was sneaking around and keeping secrets, he’d lose faith in humanity. 

I almost asked Moblit when he stopped by for nightly medication to take my laptop away. In the end, I just asked him to stow it away across the room. I told him it was because I didn’t want to be tempted to work during the night when I should have been resting, and he bought it with a proud expression. 

  
It took a long time for me to fall asleep.


	9. Diagnostic Test

“Good morning, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis said, sitting across from me. I’d just finished breakfast. Ymir had asked if I wanted my laptop, seeing as I was unable to get it for myself, but I’d said no. I was hoping that I’d spill the beans about my urge to research Levi to Dr. Smith before I did something stupid. I’d expected to meet Dr. Smith, but Dr. Pyxis had come in instead. “Dr. Smith is dealing with an unexpected patient emergency, so I thought I’d come down sooner.”

“I didn’t know we were meeting today,” I said, and he gave me an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I was working out a plan or two for you.” He said. When I just looked confused, he continued. “You’ve done very well with your dissociation while you’ve been under my care. I appreciate how hard you work, and how difficult it is for you. I know that you don’t care for talking about your health, but I thought I’d give you two options.” He twiddled his moustache a bit in thought. “If I had a more current diagnostic test to base your medical decisions off of, I could treat you more effectively and much more quickly.”

“Diagnostic test?” I repeated, feeling my insides freeze.

“The only trigger on your list that it would involve would be touching your abdomen. The test I have in mind would be an ultrasound. Having some images of the damage to your lung would be extremely helpful, and could also be used to show your ribs as well.”

“That’s with the goop, right?” I asked after a moment, taking in a deep breath. 

“Yes. A jelly is placed on a rounded probe, which is then moved across your skin. There will be a light amount of pressure, similar to what you feel during a normal abdomen exam. There is nothing sharp associated with it, and it will take fifteen minutes tops to take the images I need.” Dr. Pyxis said calmly. 

I hesitated. “And if I don’t want to do it?” I asked, ashamed that I was already looking for an out.

“I would request a normal abdomen exam. I wouldn’t get nearly as much information, but it is routine for you. If you don’t want to do that either, I would want to extend your bed rest by another week. If I let you up and about too soon, I would be risking further damage to your healing lung tissue.” Dr. Pyxis informed me.

I instantly thought of Levi. He’d been so strong in telling me about his past, and being honest about his feelings. He also desperately wanted me to get better, and in my letter to him, I’d said that I’d work hard to recover. Trying this would be awful, but it would speed things up in the long run. 

“I’ll try the ultrasound...but will Dr. Smith be there?” I asked, hating how small my voice had become. Dr. Pyxis beamed, proud of my bravery. 

“Yes. He is…” he checked his pager, scrolling through messages. “He’s finished with his patient emergency, and his rounds end in half an hour. Should I tell him to meet us at the ultrasound?” He asked.

“I--yeah.” I agreed, drumming the fingers of one hand nervously against my leg. My other hand, the one with the IV, grossed me out. If I moved it, I psyched myself out at the feeling of the needle under my skin. Dr. Pyxis smiled reassuringly at me, and paged Dr. Smith. He then let me be. 

I instantly bit my tongue to keep from crying. I hated that my mind was instantly coming up with a thousand memories of tests and fear. My abdomen already was flaring with phantom pain at the thought. When I shifted, I felt a spark of real pain, which made the lines between my memories and reality blur. 

“Hey. Ymir told me you might want your computer by now.” Jean stuck his head in, grinning like a loon. “Are you alright?” He asked, sobering at the sight of me, coming in slowly. I didn’t realize I looked that troubled. 

“Dr. Pyxis is taking me for an ultrasound in about half an hour.” I said, inhaling slowly, cuddling further under my blanket, trying to convince myself that I was trying not to dissociate instead of cowering. “I--god, I’m so scared.”

“I see.” Jean said. “Will Dr. Smith be available to go with you?” 

I nodded, pressing my face further into the blanket. Jean came over and sat in the chair next to the bed, but didn’t say anything at first. “I wish I had a letter to give you.” He said quietly, “But I haven’t done my rotation on the third floor yet.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” I whispered.

“Do you want me to tell him about it in your place? I could tell him that you were going in for a test today if you gave me permission. I’m sure he’d write to you about it.” Jean offered, and I felt my eyes water with tears at the kindness of his offer. But then I wondered- what if it made Levi angry? I didn’t want to risk his recovery. 

“I don’t want him to worry.” I said at last, counting breaths of three. “I’ll be okay.”

“You can rely on other people, Emily.” Jean reminded me. “Or, well, I’m pretty sure that’s what Dr. Smith would say if he were here.” He said, rubbing the back of his head. 

“You can tell him.” I reversed after a moment. Levi had trusted me with so much-- I could share in return. Jean nodded his acceptance, and looked up when Dr. Pyxis’ came back in, followed by Reiner. “Hey, Dr. Pyxis, Reiner.” He greeted calmly, trying to keep a sense of normalcy. 

“Jean,” Both men greeted him back. Reiner had a wheelchair with him.

“Right. Here goes,” Reiner said. “Ready for a spin?” When all I did was nod, he nudged the IV into position so that it wouldn’t tug and lifted me carefully out of bed. “Sorry, did I elbow you on accident?” he asked when I winced upon sitting upright. I’d been reclining mostly, never quite upright, save for when Armin had braided my hair.

“No, it wasn’t you.” I said softly. He unplugged the electric blanket and tucked it around me, coiling the cord neatly and asking me to hold it, giving me something to do. 

“Good luck, Emily. I’ll be back later as your personal courier.” Jean promised, walking with us until we reached the elevator.

“Thanks,” I managed, and then he was gone. Dr. Pyxis made conversation the whole way there about his grandson, and how he’d gotten an ultrasound once after swallowing four refrigerator magnets. He was chuckling by the end, mustache bristling a bit. The story had honestly been funny, and so I wasn’t quite so on edge when we came to a stop in a fairly empty room. There was a standard hospital bed, and next to it was some kind of computer setup in a cabinet. Lying on a cart next to the monitor was the probe that Dr. Pyxis had described. It looked so harmless that I hated myself for already being nervous.

“I gotcha. Geez, have you been packing on the pounds when I’m not looking?” Reiner teased lightly, picking me up again. He had to be at least two hundred pounds of mostly muscle; lifting pretty much  _ anything  _ was probably easy for him.

“You know, Marco. He gives me cheesecake.” I tried to joke along. Marco had gotten in trouble last year for giving extra dessert to his patients. He would bake on his days off and bring in treats for everyone. The hospital’s dietitian had thrown a fit, especially when they found out about the three-layered, double chocolate cake. 

“That guy,” Reiner laughed, setting me down and then helping me lie down. As soon as my back touched the mattress, I felt a flash of cold down my spine, making me inhale. “You’re good.” he reassured me, picking up the electric blanket. He plugged it back in and spread it out over me. “Burrito style?” he asked. When I nodded it was okay, he tucked it in along almost the entire length of me, from shoulders to ankles. The blanket hadn’t lost a lot of warmth, and if I closed my eyes and really focused on the idea of the future, of Armin visiting and Levi’s letter, I could keep myself in the present. 

“If you don’t want to try and hold off dissociation, we could always give you a sedative, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis offered. He and Dr. Smith sometimes butted heads-- my physician insisted on doing as much good as possible, and making me as comfortable as possible. Most days, that would involve a sedative of some sort. Dr. Smith, on the other hand, encouraged testing limits and entering uncomfortable situations. Without tension, he’d argued, developing coping methods that truly  _ worked  _ was impossible. He also pointed out that some patients, myself included, wanted to overcome as many phobias and episodes as possible. Using a sedative would form an ‘unhealthy’ dependence.

“I’m okay. Just nervous.” I said, tapping a pattern against my leg. “Where is Dr. Smith?”

“Right here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” The man swept in not a second later, coming over and flashing me the usual gentle smile. 

“We just got here ourselves.” Dr. Pyxis sat down at the computer and moved the mouse. The screen lit up, showing a dark background. “Alright, Emily. Have you ever seen an ultrasound before?”

“No,” I said, albeit nervously. 

“It’s a very cool machine. It sends tiny vibrations that you can’t even feel through your skin. The waves are deflected by structures inside your body and go back into the probe, which the computer detects as an image.” Dr. Pyxis rolled up his sleeve and squirted a dot of gel onto his forearm. He then gushed the probe around in the jelly, coating it, and then found a spot and stopped the probe. The screen, which had been flashing in grayscale, settled down, showing different fuzzy amounts of grey. After a second, I realized I could see the outlines of blood vessels. “Interesting, no?” he said, sounding amused.

It was then that I realized that I was completely entranced by it. My fear had diminished considerably just because the science behind it was so cool.

“It is.” I agreed, surprised at myself too. 

“And not to worry. I had a technician warm the gel up.” Dr. Pyxis reassured, wiping the probe off and then his arm. “And now, for the part that no one likes.” He sighed, scooting closer. “Under the blanket or no blanket?” He asked me.

“Without.” I decided, gritting my teeth. Dr. Pyxis didn’t question it. He folded the blanket back, so that my left side was covered double and my right was exposed, making me shiver. All business (going slow made it worse), he lifted my scrub shirt up. My ribs weren’t wrapped-- I’d dissociated so much when they tried to wrap it that they’d stopped. That made them hurt more, but I was cleared to get a little more painkiller and it had worked out. “Oh!” I started when the gel hit my skin-- it  _ was  _ warm, but it still made me jump.

“Sorry; I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Dr. Pyxis said, doing something on the computer. I peeked down at my ribs and wished I hadn’t. There was a purple-ish blue spot in the roughly oval shape of a foot. The area around it about four centimeters in every direction was green and slightly swollen. Combined with my scars, my torso looked like Frankenstein’s monster. “Here we go, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis warned, and lightly swirled the probe into the jelly.

_ “Huh. Stitches didn’t look like that yesterday.” Fingers poked at my torso, indifferent to my harsh groan of agony. _

“N-no. There aren’t any stitches.” I insisted, voice panicky, squeezing my eyes shut. I hissed in pain when Dr. Pyxis (I told myself sternly that it  _ was  _ Dr. Pyxis and NOT anyone else) hit a sore spot. I gripped the edge of the bed that definitely was  _ not  _ a porcelain bathtub. It wasn’t. I knew that. I wasn’t in the hangar.

“Right. Nothing like that at all.” Dr. Smith agreed in a low voice. This time wasn’t as bad-- I was channeling the fury of Levi for strength, and Dr. Pyxis wasn’t actually touching my abdomen. Dr. Pyxis shifted the probe, looking for something, and I breathed out in the three puffs. 

“Well, Emily, I am extremely impressed.” Dr. Pyxis said, and I heard him clicking on the computer. “That one lung of yours is a trooper. The damage has started healing nicely, and faster than I expected.” 

“Good,” I said softly, still on edge. The odor of the gel, not disgusting but persistent, helped to mask the lingering smell in my mind of antiseptic. I still was breathing in sets of three, and I was still as rigid as a board, but I was surviving. Dr. Pyxis moved to a new spot and I shuddered when pain spiked.

“Emily?” Dr. Smith asked. “Are you alright?”

“It hurts,” I gasped. My skin felt like it was crawling off of me. My fingers gripped the bed until my knuckles strained. 

“I’m sorry. Hang in there,” Dr. Pyxis said, sounding like he was concentrating. “Ah, there they are. Two clean breaks.” He tutted. 

“T-Tell me more about your grandson,” I requested, breaths a little shaky. Inhaling made me feel the probe more against my skin. 

“Well, let’s see here. Riley is eight now. He likes to pretend that he’s a mechanic. My daughter came home and found him taking the wheels off her husband’s car.” Dr. Pyxis chuckled at that. “He’s got a wild obsession with ducks. He keeps trying to hug them in the park. Falls into the river every time.” He chuckled again. 

“He sounds adventurous.” Reiner chimed in. I’d almost forgotten about him. Dr. Pyxis clicked away in the background. 

“Oh, yes. I saw him on Saturday. He built ‘Fort Maria’ out of hay bales at my daughter’s farm.” Dr. Pyxis continued. “We are finished, by the way.” he added, and after a moment I eased my eyes open. Dr. Pyxis was cleaning off the probe, grinning behind his mustache. “Well, almost. There we go.” He very gently wiped the gel off of my skin, apologizing when he hit a sore spot. 

“I--I did it?” I asked, dazed. Had I dissociated so badly that I couldn’t remember it? The test had gone so quickly. So  _ easily.  _

“That you did.” Dr. Pyxis said, putting my shirt back and then the blanket. “You’re as white as a ghost, but you made it through.” He sounded proud. I turned my head to look at Dr. Smith, who also looked proud. Reiner flashed me a thumb’s up from where he was standing behind him. 

“Congratulations, Emily.” Dr. Smith said warmly, radiating happiness of his own. 

A laugh of pure relief and wonder bubbled out of me, and then I winced when my ribs twanged. “Ow. I did it. I really did it.” I marveled, closing my eyes at the unexpected victory. 

“We’ll have to celebrate somehow.” Reiner suggested. “I’m sure Marco would be willing to whip something up.” 

“I wouldn’t want Mr. Reiss to get angry with him again.” Dr. Smith laughed a bit. “I’ll make sure to clear it with him.” When I opened my eyes again, he was still looking at me, pride shining in his eyes. He leaned over and gave my hand a squeeze. “I cannot express how happy it makes me to see you make such a huge stride towards your goals, Emily.” he said earnestly. “I see patients struggle all the time, and I see them get frustrated or give up when they can’t seem to find their way. I am so very proud of you for not ever giving up.” 

“Now you’ve done it.” Dr. Pyxis teased gently as my eyes welled up with tears. “Reiner, do you have a tissue?”

“Yup. Here you go.” Reiner passed me a tissue, and I swiped tears away with a choked giggle. It was so absurd that I was crying, but it felt right. Dr. Smith had become something of a father figure to me. Even if I’d started to associate him with dissociation, Dr. Pyxis was a grandfather, and all of the orderlies and nurses were older aunts and uncles. The patients at SMH had become like siblings to me. As terrified as I’d been coming in, I’d come to think of Sina as a home. 

  
“Thanks.” I said, dabbing at a few more tears. For once, I was proud of myself too. 


	10. The Search Begins

One wheelchair ride later, I was back in my room. Reiner lifted me back into bed, plugged the electric blanket back in, and asked if I needed anything. I said no; everything I needed was the envelope sitting on my nightstand, Levi’s print on the front. I opened it, unfolding the paper inside.

 

…

 

A few distorted dots on the paper- tear marks.

 

  

 

I’d never been more disappointed with Dr. Smith’s punishment then I was at that moment. I wanted to write back so badly to tell him how brave he was being. That the fact that he could muster the strength to tell me about Eren was incredible. That he shouldn’t feel guilty for not being able to save his friend. I wanted to give him good news, that I’d actually done better than I ever had before with medical treatment, and that I’d healed faster than Dr. Pyxis expected.

Maybe Dr. Smith was doing this on purpose. Writing letters and getting his thoughts and feelings out before talking to an actual psychologist seemed to have really helped Levi. The fact that he wasn’t necessarily getting a response until weeks later probably contributed to his ability to get things off his chest. Someone was listening, in a way, but Levi was free to react in private; he had more control the first time around. 

It was so wonderful, but also  _ so  _ sad. Levi had written about Eren as if his friend was truly dead...but he didn’t know for sure. My eyes flicked to my computer. It would be a horrible invasion of Levi’s privacy, but what if Eren’s ring had been found? What if Eren was in the exact same hospital and neither of us knew? If he was as bad as Levi had been, or worse, maybe Dr. Smith didn’t even know that his story and Levi’s were connected. 

I felt terrible, but when Moblit came in with a round of medication and the news that Marco was excitedly making me a surprise in celebration of my accomplishment, I asked for my computer. After I’d calmed down from getting medication put in my IV (the thought of a needle, of injections, still gave me the heebie jeebies), I opened my computer, went to Google, and glared at the search box.

If I did it, I could possibly help Levi get some form of closure, one way or another.

If I didn’t do it, I’d be respecting the trust he’d placed in me. 

Nothing about the rules of secondary partnered therapy said that I couldn’t do this. Levi had shared information about Eren, and I wasn’t transferring that information to any other patient or person. I was just being rude. Horribly rude. It was a betrayal. I glanced over at Levi’s letter. He’d said that he’d hoped that the risk I’d taken would pay off. This was just another risk...right?

In the search box, I typed ‘fight ring busted’. After another second, I closed my eyes and hit the ‘Enter’ key. It took me a minute to convince myself to peek at the results. There was a local news story about it. Before I could stop myself, I’d clicked on the article. I skimmed the opener and went straight for the facts, wincing at the description of the conditions and the age range of victims rescued from the club. A few sentences down, I found what I was looking for:

 

I couldn’t be sure, but it was most likely that the ring Eren had been sold to had been busted just a few days after Levi’s. Enquiring at RFMT would be a good starting point in looking for Eren. 

Oh god. What was I  _ doing? _

I couldn’t look for Eren. The deeper I dug, the more upset Levi would become. What I’d done was already a horrible thing to do. If I came clean to Dr. Smith and asked him to take away my laptop, that would only delay my search until I was cleared to go home. I knew that I’d probably not stop looking for Eren until I found out what had happened to him. In the end, I decided not to tell Dr. Smith. If I was going to be a horrible, nosey person I was going to get it over and done with as soon as possible. 

I’d just cleared my search history and closed my laptop, feeling dirty, when Marco knocked and practically bounced into my room. He wasn’t wearing scrubs; it must have been his day off. “Congratulations, Emily!” He cried, eyes sparkling. In his hands was a cupcake that looked sinfully good. 

“I--thank you! Dr. Pyxis said you’d make me something, but I never thought you’d go this far.” I said, surprised by his enthusiasm.

“I--I’m just happy, you know? A lot of the patients here just have to learn to cope with their problems; ‘recovery’ isn’t really possible. Seeing a rare case like yours, where patients really see a reversal, is nice.” Marco said, passing me the cupcake. “That’s a salted caramel cupcake with vanilla frosting.” He declared, looking pleased with himself. “I’d stay and chat, but Dr. Smith is distracting Mr. Reiss so that I can give out cupcakes to other patients too. I don’t know how much time I have.”

“You’re pretty amazing, Marco.” I said, amazed at his energy, and he sent me a sweet smile. 

“Marco? Are you in here?” Jean knocked and stuck his head around the door. “Hey. Wow, that looks good.” He greeted, coming in and eyeing the cupcake appreciatively.

“Don’t worry, babe. There’s one for you too.” Marco said, and I felt my eyebrows shoot up. I hadn’t realized that they were together. Apparently they hadn’t told anyone either, because Marco instantly let out some kind of squeak when he realized his mistake, eyes widening. Jean sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“I--I’m happy for you two. If you want me to keep it a secret, I will.” I promised, unable to not smile at the news. I’d never seen them openly in a relationship, like Christa and Ymir. When Jean leaned over and kissed Marco’s forehead, muttering the word ‘idiot’ with unmistakable fondness, I felt myself smile wider. 

“If you could, that would be great. We--we’re just---it’s complicated.” Marco managed, smiling sheepishly.

“Have you doled out any other cupcakes?” Jean asked, watching me lick a bit of the frosting.

“Ah! No, I haven’t! Dr. Smith is stalling for me-- I’ve gotta go! Can you help me with it?” Marco asked, tugging Jean to the door. 

“Yeah. See ya, Emily,” Jean called, and then they were both gone. I slowly ate my cupcake, proud of myself, but also wondered if Levi liked cupcakes. He probably wasn’t going to get one. The more I thought of him, the more guilty I became, until I decided to just get it over with. I reopened my computer and went to the homepage for RFMT. I found the bio page for their head psychologist, Dr. Hanji, and found her email address. 

 

I stared at the email, reading it over and over, but I eventually saved it as a draft. I was so torn over if what I was doing was right or not that I couldn’t bring myself to send it. Not yet. 

I spent the rest of the day catching up on work, although slowly. My joy and excitement over finally making it through an appointment without dissociating had mellowed, until I was just tired. Considering I’d been on bed-rest for almost two weeks and that I’d put myself through the paces in the appointment, I had every reason to be tired, but it still irritated me a bit. At the end of the dinner hour, Dr. Pyxis came into my room.

“Hello, Emily. I’ve gotten a moment to look more closely at your ultrasound pictures in order to make a decision about your care plan.” he said. “Would you like to look at them?”

“Um. Yes?” I asked. I wasn’t necessarily afraid of them, but I was wary. Dr. Pyxis handed me the file, and I opened it. The first grayscale image was mostly indiscernible to me. 

“This is the edge of your lung.” He tapped his finger over the spot. “Do you see how most of it is a very light grey? That’s because the tissue is full of oxygen, and is healthy.” He gestured.

“So that dark spot is the damaged area?” I asked, looking at the spot. It wasn’t big, but any damage when down to just one lung wasn’t great. 

“Yes. I’ve looked at quite a few ultrasounds, so I can tell you that recently damaged lung tissue or tissue that is dying is straight black. Your tissues in the damaged area are a dark grey. Also, you can see how the edge of the spot gets lighter. That means that you have already started healing, and that you are healing quickly.” Dr. Pyxis smiled. “Your body has adjusted to compensate for your missing lung by putting all it has into maintaining the other one.”   
  


“That’s good,” I said hopefully. If I was healing quickly, maybe I’d be off bedrest soon. 

“Yes, it is. The bone breaks,” He flipped to the next few images, pointing, “were thankfully pretty clean. If they’d shattered we would have needed to do surgery, and the damage to your lung would have been more severe. You can see the brighter white areas where the bone is regenerating.” He pointed it out to me. “Today is Tuesday. If you can hold out until Monday, six days, I’ll take you off bed rest.”

“Seriously?” I asked in disbelief, excited all over again. “Thank you!” 

  
“No, thank  _ you,  _ Emily. You were brave enough to try this test, which allowed me to get a better idea of what we are dealing with here. This was all because of you.” Dr. Pyxis said, smiling. “I’ll pass this along to Dr. Smith.” he said, standing and taking the photographs. His eyes traveled to the letters I had stacked neatly on my nightstand and he smiled knowingly. 


	11. Levi's Letters

I got five letters from Levi, and each one helped me to get through the time when I was still stuck in bed. Every day that I got a letter where he seemed to be stable, I ignored the email saved in my drafts. I promised myself that if he started to decline and maybe needed a push someday, I’d send it. Until then, I was just selfishly wanting to know for myself more than anything else. His letters helped pass the time.

  

I saved all of them, and would read them over and over again.

 

I sympathized with him completely; I was getting so antsy. The better I felt, and the closer I got to Dr. Pyxis’ six-day promise, the more I wanted to get out of bed and do things. In my mind, getting off of bed rest and being back to 100% weren’t synonymous, but a part of me liked to pretend that was true. 

 

 

Picturing his new haircut entertained me for at least a day. Armin had been coming in every day to braid my hair, and he’d done everything from braiding my hair into one continuous crown to creating such a complicated French braid that I asked Thomas to take a picture of it. 

 

 

The letter with the swearing hadn’t made me uncomfortable until I laughed hard enough to make breathing difficult and my side ache for almost an hour afterward. I felt bad that the only thing he had to do was psychoanalyze himself and me at the same time. I gave Jean permission to tell him that after one more day I’d officially be off bedrest, and that I’d be coming to see him.

I’d debated on whether or not to send the email. Levi had seemed pretty antsy, but in the end I decided to wait. If I was going to see him in person that might help him to get his old routine back. If he still was feeling unbearably restless, I’d send the email.

In preparation of meeting with him, I asked Petra to call Mr. Chatterjee and ask him to swing by SMH again and drop off some books. He came with a stack that Reiner carried in for him, stories about Dorothy the cheat, and many wishes for me to get well soon. 

 

 

 


	12. Out of Bed

“Alright, it’s official.” Dr. Pyxis said in the doorway to my room smiling. Armin was braiding my hair again- it really gave him confidence. Today he had braided two long french braids on either side of my head that trailed over my shoulders and stopped at about my ribs. “You are allowed to move about your room without help. If you want to leave your room, you must use a wheelchair.”

“That’s really great,” Armin said, smiling softly.

“Thanks, Dr. Pyxis.” I told him, grateful that I was finally well enough to leave my room. I could go to the garden with Armin, and start visiting patients again. Even just seeing something different than the four walls of my room would be a relief.

“I thought you might be eager to go for a stroll, so I enlisted some help.” Dr. Pyxis stepped aside, letting Reiner come in with a wheelchair. “I’ve also been told that there are a few people waiting for you in the garden.” He then turned to Armin, smiled, and said, “Excellent work, Armin.”

“Th-thanks,” Armin stuttered, flushing pink and then red when I looked at him in surprise. “I asked if I could talk to the other patients you talk to when you were dissociated. We’ve been talking this whole time.” He looked down at his slippers, biting his lip. “We wanted to talk in the garden. Is that okay?” He murmured.

“Absolutely, yes,” I said, smiling until my face hurt. “I can’t believe you pulled this together, Armin!” I praised, turning my face away from Reiner but offering my IV-hand when he gestured for it. I winced, shivering a bit when he pulled the needle out, but Armin was shyly beaming back at me, pleased.

“I--I couldn’t get your one patient to come. The one that hurt you. Dr. Smith said no.” He said, sounding disappointed. “But everyone else will be there.” He said as Reiner taped a piece of gauze to my hand. “Is that okay?” he asked as Reiner picked me up.

“Armin, this was so thoughtful of you. I can’t even imagine how much you had to go outside of your comfort zone to do this for me. Thank you so much.” I said sincerely, and then reached for the box of tissues when Armin’s large blue eyes welled up with tears. Reiner helped me grab it, and passed it to Armin, who whispered out some kind of thank you, hiding his face.

 

\--

 

We had an absolute blast. Armin, with his thin arms and tiny stature, tried to push my chair for a bit, Reiner watching with amusement. Mikasa was so healthy looking and calm that her very presence made me want to start training to go running with her. Conny had on large, dark sunglasses and had to sit under an umbrella to provide additional darkness, but he cracked jokes constantly until Dr. Pyxis told him to stop-- I’d laughed so hard I’d been literally gasping for air.

Bertl shuffled in a little later, accompanied by a doctor who introduced herself as just ‘Marie’. She translated his sign language, explaining that under the big headphones he was wearing, he had military grade earplugs in, and that he was doing well. Bertl hit it off surprisingly well with Reiner, standing beside him for most of the time in the garden.

The fresh air was incredible. There was a slight breeze, which was chilly, but Petra and Moblit came by and brought me a blanket. A lot of the garden was in full bloom. It was partly cloudy, which was nice. I was so used to fluorescent lights that when the sun did come out I loved it, but the clouds provided good cover for Conny.

Armin was carefully placing flowers into my braided hair, with Mikasa looking on, when Dr. Smith came. “You look very happy, Emily.” He told me, smiling.

“I am _very_ happy.” I agreed, waving goodbye to Conny, who was the first to go. I was so impressed that he’d even been able to leave his room and go outside at all.

“Once you finish your rounds for the day, I’d like to stop by later and talk to you about when you can leave the hospital and go back to your apartment.” Dr. Smith told me.

“Okay, that sounds good. Thanks,” I told him, thinking of Levi.

After another half an hour, a shocking amount of time for Bertl, he called it quits. That led Armin to admitting that he was tired, and Mikasa could see that I wanted to go and see Levi.

“If something happens again, I will go nuts.” She said, foot tapping nervously on the ground. “Don’t let anything happen, okay?” She asked Dr. Smith.

“I promise that nothing will happen to Emily.” He said solemnly. Exhaling, Mikasa nodded, turned, and left. “Alright. Shall we head up?” Dr. Smith prompted. I suddenly remembered Levi saying that he had a surprise for me, and that he’d had to talk to Dr. Smith about it. An orderly could have taken me up to Levi’s room, but Dr. Smith was doing it himself.

“Yes, please,” I requested, and he pushed me out of the garden and back into the hospital, heading for the elevator. “Apparently there’s another surprise for me today?” I asked, and I heard him chuckle.

“Armin was very determined, as was Levi, to do something for you.” He said cryptically, stopping at the elevator. I pushed the button for the third floor. “You have an astounding influence on many patients who face a wide variety of challenges. It is truly amazing, Emily.” He said as the door chimed, sliding open.

“I--thanks,” I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush as he pushed me into the elevator. “Oh! Shoot, I forgot my books!” I said as the doors opened on the third floor.

“Not to worry. I had Annie get them from your room for you.” He said as we arrived at Levi’s room. Annie raised two books that she’d taken from the stack from Mr. Chatterjee with a serious nod. She passed them to me, and I held them in my lap.

“Dude. Nice flowers.” Jean said, pointing to my hair. Armin had tucked enough flowers into the braids to make a solid stripe of color and fragrance on each side. Then, I noticed it. Jean had something behind his back. When he saw that I saw that he was hiding something, he grinned at me, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Thanks.” I said. “That’s Armin’s handiwork.” I looked up in surprise at Dr. Smith when he patted my shoulder as Annie unlocked the door.

“I’ll be going in with you for a bit.” He explained, and when Annie opened the door, Dr. Smith pushed me inside.

The room looked completely different. There was a bed, and a nightstand. Stacked on it neatly in separate piles were my two books, a few pieces of paper and a pen, and the envelope I’d given Jean so long ago.

Levi himself was in the corner, as usual, but he wasn’t sitting. He was standing, and he _wasn’t wearing a jacket._

“Hey.” He greeted quietly, face flat but eyes moving rapidly as he took me in. He hadn’t moved an inch, and his arms were hanging flat by his sides.

“Hi,” I managed, surprisingly dazed at the sight of him looking so normal. I briefly thought of him in a ring, beating someone. Of him losing his temper like he was prone to do. He’d told me so many times in his letters that he often felt the urge to hit something. He must have seen something on my face, because he spoke up right away.

“Don’t dissociate.” He ordered, albeit nervously. “If you want, horse-face out there has a jacket.” Levi said, gesturing with his head to the door. “I’ll put it on if you want.” His tone was as flat as expression, but he watched me carefully, and with a spark of hope that I wouldn’t ask for it.

What a _surprise._ Levi must have worked so hard to not lash out. A patient had to have a five day streak, minimum, without striking at a staff member when they came to jacket them in order to be _considered_ for being taken off the list for needing one altogether. That meant he’d worked through his anger for five days or more just for the chance to meet me without one. More realistically, he’d probably told his proposal to Dr. Smith and explained why he wanted to do it, even though he didn’t like Dr. Smith in the least.

He would willingly put on something he absolutely hated if it meant that I’d stay to talk to him. He’d tried so hard just for _me_.

“Shit. Get the jacket.” Levi said, eyes widening when he saw my eyes sparkling with tears.

“Emily?” Dr. Smith rested a hand on my shoulder. He wouldn’t get it unless I asked for it, or unless Levi showed signs of an episode.

“No. I’m not afraid. I can’t believe how hard you must have worked.” I said softly, dabbing at my eyes with the back of my hand. I winced a bit when I forgot about the gauze on the back of my hand; pressing it against my face hurt a little.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re okay with this?” Levi asked, dumbfounded. He glanced at Dr. Smith, as if expecting him to explain that I was joking. When I just nodded, he asked, “ _Why?!”,_ his voice confused and angry all at once.

“Didn’t you read my letter?” I teased half-heartedly, using the back of my other hand instead. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“ _You were hospitalized for almost a month!”_ Levi protested, still pissed off. “How the _fuck--?!”_

“Levi?” I asked, voice soft, but he stopped yelling.

“Yeah?” He asked angrily, glaring a bit.

“Shut up.” I told him. After a moment, he barked out a weak laugh, pressing his hands to his eyes. I’d never heard him laugh before, but I loved the sound. He deserved to be happy, to laugh.

“You two seem just fine by yourselves.” Dr. Smith said, sounding pleased. “However, the board only allowed these sessions to resume if we took an extra precaution.” He reached into his lab coat and pulled out an odd kind of device. It sort of looked like a clicker for a presentation. “Until you are able to move about on your own, Emily, and even after that, I’m going to ask you to keep this with you. When you press the button, it activates the pager of the orderly outside.” He passed the clicker to me, and I took it, examining it curiously. “Give it a try.” he urged. I pushed the button, and not a second later the door swung open. Annie lifted her pager for my inspection. It was vibrating, and a little blue light was pulsing on the top of it.

“If you are dissociating, if Levi is feeling threatened, or if you need help for any reason whatsoever, press that button. _Both_ of you have recovered well from this incident, but we have been extremely lucky. I don’t want anything to happen again.” Dr. Smith said firmly. “Do you understand?”

“Yes. I’ll keep it with me until you say I don’t need it anymore.” I agreed. “Thanks.” I told him, and he offered us both a smile.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your time together.” He said, and he and Annie left, shutting the door and leaving us alone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Emily.” Levi muttered, still staring at me. He looked mad again, but more frustrated than anything else. “You look _awful.”_

“Um. Okay.” I said, touching my cheek, as if I could feel something on my face that proved I looked terrible. The standard bathroom at SMH didn’t have a mirror. I hadn’t even thought of how I looked; all I knew was that I _felt_ better.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean--,” Levi let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t look awful.” He glanced up. “Who did that?” He asked gruffly, gesturing to me. It took me a moment to realize he meant my hair.

“One of my patients. His name is Armin.” I shared, touching the end of one of the braids, glancing at the flowers. “Oh! Your hair! You said that you’d gotten a haircut?” I asked, remembering the story from his letter. Levi wordlessly turned around, showing a smooth, clean undercut. “You’re right; Jean did a nice job.” I said, and he let out another weak laugh.

“I--sorry. I just can’t believe that you’re fucking okay with this. The last time I saw you was---bad. Really bad.” Levi frowned, looking at the wheelchair, the blanket, the gauze taped to my hand. “Are you okay? You don’t fucking look okay.”

“I--,” I fiddled with the gauze a bit, the words suddenly drying up in my mouth. “It took a lot to get this far. You get that, right?”

“Yeah.” Levi said. “Can you tell me about it? I’ve just written you so many fucking letters without hearing anything.” He asked, and then an odd look crossed his face. “Shit--I mean, _darn_. Does swearing bother you?”

The sound of such a tame curse coming out of him made me smile. “No, it doesn’t bother me.” I reassured him softly, and he seemed to relax.

“Thank fuck. There’s no way I can keep my shit together and not curse. It’s just not possible.” Levi said, tone not as harsh.

“Okay, well…” I fiddled with the gauze again. “I dissociated and was unresponsive for five days.” I started softly. “I’ve been worse.” I added when Levi inhaled sharply at the news. I didn’t look at him; I kept my eyes fixed on the piece of gauze. “Dr. Pyxis tried a lot of different things to treat me. A lot of it didn’t work so well.” I sighed, thinking of him trying to wrap my ribs. “But what did work worked well.”

“What’s that shit on your hand?” He asked.

“It’s just from the IV.” I said, wincing at the thought of the needle. “I’m so glad I don’t have it anymore.” I winced again at the memory of Reiner pulling it out.

“This is weird.” Levi declared after a few seconds. “Let’s just read. We can talk about all this shit later.” I was grateful that he’d picked up on the awkwardness in the room. It wasn’t anyone’s fault- there was just so much that we wanted to talk about but weren’t ready yet. “What did you bring?” He asked.

“ _The Double Helix_ or _The God of the Machine?”_ I offered.

“Your choice. I owe you.” He said, and when I just looked confused, he added gruffly, “You read to me that one time. It helped.”

“ _The Double Helix_ then.” I decided.

“Are you okay with me coming over to get the book?” He asked. He’d really progressed. I’d never heard him sound so calm, and he’d clearly thought about every move he made. I nodded, and he slowly walked over, but stopped about a foot away. “Would it make sense if I said that looking at you pissed me off?” he asked suddenly, glancing away.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I said softly, confused.

“I fucked you up, and you suffered for it. I can’t do anything about that.” His tone was clipped; he was getting angry with himself. “It’s corny as shit, but I want to help you as much as you’ve helped me. I can’t do that in this fucking box.” He breathed in three puffs, and then out three puffs. He pulled a face at the need for Dr. Smith’s method.

“You can read to me. And keep being able to visit with me.” I started. “I don’t know why you think that I’ve done so much more for you. You’ve helped me a lot, Levi.”

“Yeah. Because kicking you was a _great_ fucking help.” he snapped. “Shit. Sorry.” He added, sounding tired. He tugged at the sleeve of his scrubs, eyebrows furrowed angrily. He then took in a deep breath and started talking, glaring viciously at the floor.

“I’m so fucking grateful that you gave me a chance and that you wrote me that letter after my episode and I feel like I’ll never stop feeling guilty for hurting you so badly. It was so easy to fucking knock you on your ass, and that scares me. I can’t stop thinking about Eren but I can’t fucking talk about him. Fuck. _Christ_. Your hair looks amazing; tell that Armin kid that he made you look beautiful. Emotions suck and I hate this. Dr. Slapstick is an asshole, but he’s a necessary asshole. God. Shit.” He inhaled, out of breath.

I sat there, watching him with wide eyes. He’d blurted everything out in one big long angry stretch. He’d mentioned in his letters that he felt more comfortable doing that, but I still hadn’t been expecting it. His poker face was so incredibly hard to see through. Even standing there, panting out harsh breaths in an effort to control himself, I couldn’t see how close he was to the edge.

“Read to me,” I whispered my request, extending the book to him. He took it after a moment, and then sat on the end of his bed. His eyes flashed down to look at me- where he was sitting put him above me, but I still wasn’t afraid. After reading my expression for a moment, he cracked the book, cleared his throat awkwardly, and started reading.

He read for over an hour. He’d glance up occasionally, to make sure that I was okay. The sound of his voice, flat but sure, was relaxing. It seemed to help him too. “You look dead on your feet.” He said after a few more chapters.

“It’s my first day out of bed, but I don’t want to go back yet.” I said wearily. Listening to him read had calmed me almost too much. I reached up and pulled a flower out of my hair, a daisy, and offered it to him. After a moment, he leaned over and took it, taking care not to touch me. “Sometimes I can still hear things when I’m dissociated, and sometimes I can’t.” I said as he inspected the daisy.

“Dr. Slapstick tried to explain it to me. It sounds really shitty. Like you can’t stand to be in your head, but you absolutely can’t stand being out.” Levi summed up carefully.

“Yes, that’s right. And then I can’t tell where I am, or what’s happening to me.” I said quietly, worrying the edge of the blanket draped over my lap. “I want to share too, just...slower.” I added, trying to explain why I was telling him what I was. I respected his technique for sharing things, but he’d been right when he’d written to me; I couldn’t share like that, all in one go.

“Is your lung okay?” Levi asked.

“Yeah. I’m still sore, but that’s nothing. If I get too out of breath I can’t breathe very well.” I answered. “But I was always kind of like that.”

“What was the test?” he seemed determined to ask as much as he could before I asked to stop. I wanted to give him something to think about, considering he’d gotten so antsy when were separated.

“An ultrasound. It uses microscopic waves to see through your tissues. Dr Pyxis wanted to see what was going on so that he could change my treatment plan.” I found myself smiling. “It scared me, but I didn’t dissociate. Not even once.”

“Seriously?” Levi asked incredulously. “Fuck yeah!” He exclaimed, happy for me, and I laughed until my side twanged, making me wince.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him, seeing his expression fall rapidly. “Just sore.”

“Then go back to your room.” he ordered. “And don’t come back until the day after, like we used to.” he added. “You need all the rest you can get.”

“Here,” I said in way of acceptance, passing him the other book. “I’m so glad we got to do this today.” I sighed, tired but pleased with all we’d done.

“Me too.” Levi muttered, but a hint of a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Careful, idiot.” He added with more venom as I turned my wheelchair a little unsteadily; I hadn’t used one in a while, and was out of practice.

“Bye, Levi. See you later.” I promised over my shoulder, and the smile on his face got a fraction more visible.

“Bye, Emily.”


	13. The Email is Sent

I slept a long time on my ‘days off’. I’d been so excited to get out of bed that I’d forgotten how easily one got tired after having been on bedrest for weeks. I’d never been a strong person, and ever since my ordeal I’d exhausted quickly and struggled to maintain a healthy body weight, let alone build muscle. 

There was no letter from Levi, which depressed me a bit. I thought about writing to him, but we were going to see each other the next day. There wasn’t a reason for the letters to continue, but I’d grown to expect them. It was a little disappointing not to get one.

When we did meet, we read a lot. I apparently looked less and less like shit every day that we met, until Levi stopped commenting on my appearance all together. He only said something when Armin braided flowers into my hair. Summer faded into fall, but Armin and still I met in the garden.

Levi had given an approving nod when I showed up to our sixth meeting without a wheelchair. I sat on the floor, as I had before. The bruising on my torso had completely faded, and the soreness disappeared.

Dr. Smith and Dr. Pyxis cleared me to go back to my apartment. It was a little odd to be on my own again, but the freedom was relaxing. SMH was my family, but I was so comfortable in my own space, free from scrubs or antiseptic. There was definitely nothing sharp in my apartment except for a pair of scissors and a kitchen knife. I got to return Mr. Chatterjee’s books, and we must have sat and drank tea for an hour, talking. He was an incredible old man- so open to understanding me, and those who struggled with mental illness. I’d expected him to be a true child of the forties, but he’d accepted me without question.

When I’d told Levi that, he’d been pleased. He’d also expressed continued appreciation of Armin’s hairstyles until, one day, he informed me that they were writing letters back and forth. Dr. Smith and Armin had decided that he needed to challenge himself, as I had. Both Levi and Armin had faced unspeakable violence, and so Dr. Smith had suggested that they write to each other, and both had accepted the challenge.

Levi and I seemed to gage each other’s mood instantaneously. I learned to read his poker face, able to pick up the smallest changes and interpret them. I was an open book, but Levi began to pick up everything. He could tell when I was fidgeting but okay to continue, and when I was fidgeting because I was trying not to freak out.

“Can I try something today?” he asked after we’d been reading for a bit in mutual silence.

“Sure,” I agreed, bookmarking my page and closing my book. “What is it?”

“I want to try and talk about him.” Levi said, glaring at the floor. There was no need to clarify who he was talking about. “But I can’t do it right next to you.” He swallowed, snarling a bit under his breath before adding, “If I get shitty, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I do have this, remember,” I said, plucking the emergency pager out of my pocket.

“Not enough.” He said sharply. He got up and moved to the corner opposite of the door, sitting down. “Go by the door.” He ordered, voice getting harsh. He was nervous, and he’d mentioned more than once that he got mad at himself when he got mad for feeling emotional. I silently got up and sat down by the door, placing the pager on the floor in front of me.

Instead of saying anything to encourage him, I just stayed quiet. I played with the end of my braid, another gift from Armin, and waited.

“He was more than a friend to me. We depended on one another to survive.” Levi started after a minute of breathing in puffs. He was glaring viciously at his nightstand. “There wasn’t time for feelings or any of that bullshit.” He spread his hands wide, the opposite of forming a fist, and glared down at his shaking fingers.

We lapsed back into silence.

“I should have fucking told him.” Levi swiped angrily at his eyes, voice cracking. His shoulders had tensed up, and his breath was ragged, fast and angry. “I should have told that shitty brat that I fucking loved him.”

I inhaled sharply, shocked and sad for him. From what it sounded like, Eren had been his whole world. Now he was gone.

Or was he? That email was still sitting on my computer. All I had to do was send it to Dr. Hanji at RFMT. I might not get a response, or Dr. Hanji might have no information on Eren, but at least I could put my mind at ease, and possibly Levi’s as well.

“ _ Fuck. _ Fuck, Emily, hit the button.” Levi snarled suddenly. He’d folded his arms to his chest, a parody of being in a jacket. It had been in effort to calm himself down, but it hadn’t worked.

I snatched the pager and hit the button. Barely a second later, Annie unlocked the door and came in, Jean following, carrying a jacket. They were tense, ready to find a horrific scene, but read the situation quickly. “Step outside. Now.” Annie told me.

“Good job, Levi. Bye.” I said hastily, stepping out. Annie shut the door behind me. I paced nervously in the hallway, wincing when I heard muffled yelling, all of it unhappy, and a few suspicious thuds. After worrying my brains out for a good fifteen minutes of silence, the door opened and Annie and Jean came out.

“You listened to me. Thank you.” Annie said sincerely, eyeing me up and down. I was still tugging nervously on my braid, and under her scrutiny I forced myself to stop. “Dr. Smith will be very happy to hear that the emergency pager worked, and that Levi recognized what he needed.”

“Is he okay?” I blurted. “Are you two okay?”

“Ackerman is fine. He’s done for the day though. He didn’t seem happy about it, but he also said that you’d get it.” Jean said, flashing me a reassuring grin.

“Okay. Thanks,” I said, passing back the emergency pager. “I’ll see you both later?” I offered, still a little nervous for Levi. He’d been doing so well. In the past, when he’d slipped up he’d practically fallen right back to where he’d started. I had to remind myself that he’d asked for the jacket; it had been entirely his choice. Even if he’d fought it when it came to actually being put into it, he’d wanted it. Any step in the right direction was progress.

“Later.” Jean agreed with a wave, and Annie offered me her usual apathetic nod.

 

\--

 

That night, I opened my computer and scanned the email I’d typed to Dr. Hanji all those weeks ago. The draft had been sitting in my inbox, mocking me. I stared at the text, so unsure of what to do. I stared at it until my dinner had gone cold and my eyes hurt.

Levi had loved him, and had never told him. In their world, and with his personality, he’d probably decided that his feelings hadn’t mattered, and that telling Eren he loved him could either push him away or put him in more danger. They’d been separated. Eren had been injured the last time Levi saw him, and now Levi was trapped, trying to make some sort of recovery, when a huge part of him was gone.

I couldn’t let him stay in limbo, wondering.

I clicked ‘send’.


	14. Betrayal

“You seem nervous.” Levi commented, voice hard, when we met again. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes narrowed at me. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not you. I’m so impressed that you were able to ask for something you hate.” I said honestly, trying not to think about the email too much. “I’m impressed that you could tell me what you did.” I paused, giving him a chance to tell me to drop the subject. I could understand if he wanted to stop. When Levi didn’t say anything, I added, “I’ve never been in love, so I can’t empathize with you. If it means anything, I am so sorry.”

“Of course it means something, dumbass.” Levi muttered, but the tension in his shoulders had faded. “I don’t think I can talk about it today.” He added, sounding irritated. He glanced up. “Can we talk about you?”

“Sure.” I agreed, trying not to show any unease. “What do you want to know?”

“Do you have a family? Parents and all that shit?” Levi asked, watching me.

“No. I was an only child, and my parents died when I was young. I’ve been on my own for a while.” I answered. Talking about my life before the ordeal was easy. “I guess that’s why they took me.”

“They?” Levi repeated, confused, and then he understood. “The people who…?” He gestured vaguely to me, eyes hardening at the thought, especially when I hugged myself on instinct. I closed my eyes, digging my fingers into the fabric of my big, floppy sweater. “They must have gotten caught, right? They got their due?” Levi asked furiously, and I heard him inhale in patterns of three.

“Yes. They were caught.” I agreed, opening my eyes. I felt kind of shaky, and sad. "They're in prison, I think."

“Good. That’s good.” Levi growled, flexing his fingers. "Because I don't know what I'd do if they weren't."

Before I could try and talk Levi down from swearing a violent revenge,the door opened abruptly to Levi’s room. I turned to look, confused. Dr. Smith came in, his expression unusually flat. Annie and Jean stayed in the doorway, and both of them looked cold and professional. “Dr. Smith? I didn’t hit the button on accident, did I?” I asked, reaching into my pocket for the emergency pager.

“No. Emily, I am  _ extremely _ disappointed in you. You need to tell Levi exactly what you’ve done, and then you need to leave.” He said coldly, eyebrows coming together in a sharp, angry ‘v’.

“Oi, what the fuck?” Levi snapped dangerously, bolting to his feet. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that, Dr. Shitsmear!”

My stomach dropped. He had to be talking about the email. Dr. Hanji had probably contacted Sina Mental Health instead of emailing me back. I’d lost Dr. Smith’s trust; I could see that in his face. I’d always pushed at the rules, but never like this. “Emily.” He prompted, voice a warning.

“Levi, I’m so sorry. I’m so--,” I struggled to take a deep breath, eyes already smarting with tears. “I did something really bad. I--I Googled news articles to find information about what happened to your fight club.”

“And?” Dr. Smith added, frowning. Levi was staring at me, his glare swapping from Dr. Smith to me.

“I--you said that you weren’t sure if Eren was d-dead or not so I found out that he might have been taken to a different hospital. I--I contacted their head psychologist to l-look for him. Levi, I’m sorry!” I admitted, trembling. “It was wrong, I shouldn’t have--!”

“Get the  _ fuck  _ out.” Levi snarled after a moment. He was practically vibrating with rage, fists clenched by his sides. “ _ Get out!”  _ He roared. Dr. Smith pulled me to my feet and practically pushed me out the door as Annie and Jean headed into Levi’s room.

“FUCK! Don’t fucking-- _ god dammit! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”  _ Levi bellowed from inside his room, and I heard the sounds of a fight. “ _ SON OF A _ \--!”

Feeling almost physically ill with guilt, I slumped against the wall across the hall, pressing a hand to my mouth to muffle my sobs. I’d taken a risk, and it had blown up in my face. Levi would suffer a huge blow to his recovery because of me. I’d broken patient confidentiality. I’d probably gotten Dr. Smith into a lot of trouble. I’d seen his disgust- he’d put so much work into me, placed so much trust in me, and I’d turned around and betrayed him. I wept into my hands, wishing I could turn back time.

“Let go of me, you  _ fucking _ cocksucker!” Levi’s shouting briefly got louder-- someone left his room. Whoever it was, they didn’t stop to talk to me. They came back a minute later with four other people, one of which stopped, crouching in front of me. “ _ GET OUT! DON’T FUCKING COME NEAR ME OR I WILL  _ **_FUCKING_ ** _ KILL YOU! NO! I DON’T FUCKING  _ **_WANT_ ** _ IT YOU--,”  _ Levi’s roaring turned into a wordless, animalistic bellowing as the door opened and shut, the extra orderlies going in.

“Emily. Come on.” It was Marco. He picked me up when I made no move to get up, and the muffled sounds of Levi snarling incoherently followed us, gradually disappearing as we got into the elevator.

Marco sat with me in the lobby until I stopped crying. He told me quietly, sympathetically, that Dr. Smith had taken me off of the secondary partnered therapy rotation, and that I shouldn’t come back to the hospital until they called me.

I drove back home in a daze. As soon as I was back in my apartment, I cried until I was seeing spots from a lack of oxygen and my throat ached.

My first day, I stayed in bed, curled in a ball. The RNA came at their usual times, 9 am, 1pm, and 7pm. I usually wasn’t one to stay in bed, so they asked me if I was feeling alright. They weren’t familiar with mental health issues, but they knew enough to ask me questions. If I didn’t respond, they could assume that I was dissociating and would then call the hospital. I answered them, even though I did feel a little ill, and so they left.

I continued that for three more days. The RNA didn’t try to talk to me, to ask what was wrong. I was half grateful, and half sickened for their lack of concern. I developed a cold, and so I spent most of my time sniffling into tissues, napping, and hating myself.

I worked the next day for twelve hours straight, mindlessly coding. It didn’t take my mind off of my mistake, but I needed to work to keep my apartment and my freedom. I went out for groceries, but I didn’t talk to any of my neighbors. When I got back, and I’d finally put all of the bags away, I saw that my phone was blinking with a message.

**‘YOU HAVE ‘ONE’ NEW MESSAGE. ‘FIRST’ UNHEARD MESSAGE, SENT ‘TODAY’ AT FOUR FIFTEEN P.M.’**

_ “Emily? This is Petra.”  _ Her voice sounded odd when it was recorded. _ “Dr. Smith asked me to call and touch base with you. The RNA that checks on you has reported that you’re not behaving like you normally would. They aren’t trained to check for dissociation, so we just want to make sure that you’re okay. Because you finished your primary treatment plan and were officially discharged again, we can’t make you come in to talk to us, but Dr. Smith would appreciate hearing from you.” _ She paused.  _ “We all would.” _

I deleted the message before it could play any further.

When I got up the next morning, I went for a walk. I ended up having a cough attack when a stinky truck drove by, but I didn’t let that deter me. Thinking of Mikasa, I bought a pair of running shoes, and mindlessly did the stretches she’d taught me, but in the heat and safety of my apartment. I was trying to take my mind off of my cold, and of my mistake, but the entire time I thought of Levi, his explosion, and of Dr. Smith’s angry disappointment. I was halfway through a yoga stretch when my phone rang. I patiently sat through the stretch, ignoring the ringer.

**‘THE NUMBER YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE TONE.’**

_ “Emily, this is Petra again. I’m very worried about you.” _ She went quiet for a moment.  _ “I’m not calling on official business. I just want to know if you’re alright. I really wish you’d pick up the phone.” _ She waited for a moment, clearly hoping, but I just stretched deeper, feeling my muscles burn.  _ “I can’t say much, but I can tell you that Levi is working through this. It’s not as bad as you think.” _ I heard her inhale sharply.  _ “I’ve got to go; Dr. Smith is coming. Please call us back. Bye.” _

I eventually came out of the stretch. The phone was blinking, indicating I had a message, but I deleted the recording instead of listening to it again.

I’d messed up really,  _ really  _ badly. All of the staff at Sina had come to trust me, as had my patients. Who would want to talk to me now, after I’d taken information Levi had told me in confidence and gone behind his back?


	15. Finding Eren Jaeger

“Have you ever made a horrible mistake that hurt someone you cared about, Mr. Chatterjee?” I asked, sniffling a bit, as soon as he opened his door. I’d been going mad in my apartment, both sick and feeling horrible, and so I’d sought out contact with the only person who knew me that didn’t work at SMH. 

“Hmm. Yes. A few times. Come on in,” Mr. Chatterjee invited, turning around and ambling away from the door without checking to see if I was following him. I came in and shut the door, shivering in the warmth of his apartment. I took off my shoes and left them on his doormat before hesitantly following him. “It’s about time you came over. I haven’t seen much of you lately, and you’ve not looked well.” Mr. Chatterjee tutted. He was in his kitchen. “Sit.” he added, pointing to a chair with his cane.

I sank into the chair as he ambled about. He brought me a box of tissues, and started the kettle. “I was seventeen. My older brother, Albert, was madly in love with a woman who didn’t know he existed. Thinking I was doing him a favor, I took the love letters he’d written to her and put them at her door.” Mr. Chatterjee started his story, getting two teacups out of his cupboard. I wiped my eyes, trying not to cry, as he continued. “The fool didn’t sign them. When she found them, she assumed they were from a man she’d been pursuing, and the two of them got engaged.”

“Oh!” I gasped, heart clenching at the thought.

“Albert didn’t speak to me for months when he found out. The poor sod was heartbroken.” Mr. Chatterjee took the kettle off when it started to whistle, and poured me a cup of tea. “Do you need a little extra something?” He asked, taking a bottle of whiskey from his cupboard.

“I’m not allowed to drink alcohol. I’m missing parts of my liver.” I said faintly, swiping more tears away.

“Just a nip, then.” Mr. Chatterjee carefully measured just a small amount into my teacup before adding a generous splash to his own. “Albert just needed time, Emily. I’m sure that whatever you’ve done isn’t as horrible as you think.”

“But--but I hurt someone who was unstable. He might not ever recover.” I managed, a sob making it out as Mr. Chatterjee put my tea in front of me.

“You can’t know that now, so why worry about it?” Mr. Chatterjee said, sitting down with a weary sigh and taking a sip of his tea. “You seem like a very sensitive person, Emily. I swear that when my rheumatism acts up, you feel it in your bones.” He took another sip as I blew my nose. “I’m no therapist, but you can’t live like this. Guilt will eat you alive. You’re a bit of a shrimp, young lady, so it won’t be hard.”

I laughed a bit at that, the sound tear-stained and shaky.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I know that the people who care about you, who you’ve hurt right now, would want you to take care of yourself.” Mr. Chatterjee said wisely. “Drink your tea.” he added, and I tucked my tissue into my sleeve and picked up the cup. The china was warm, and I let the steam wash over my face. I took a sip, and the heat of the tea was coupled with the heat from the alcohol. I coughed heavily, unused to it, and Mr. Chatterjee chuckled fondly.

He told me stories of his youth, of growing up in the forties, until I’d stopped grieving for my stupid mistake. He made me several cups of tea, all with ‘something extra’, and they made me feel warm, and fuzzy all over. When we were done talking, I thanked him repeatedly for his help, giggling a bit when my tongue felt thick and my words slurred together. I stood up and nearly fell right back over, vision a little shaky, and Mr. Chatterjee laughed.

“Oh, to be a lightweight.” He said and helped me back to my apartment. I crashed on my couch, sleeping better for the first time in days. When I woke up, I had a splitting headache, and my mouth felt dry. I must have coughed for a good fifteen minutes from the dry rasp in my throat. I sat on my kitchen floor, nursing a cup of water; I wasn’t confident that I could eat something quite yet. I reached the point where I could stand up without feeling nauseous, and took a shower. That made me feel a bit more human, and so when I wandered into my living room, I finally noticed that my phone was blinking.

**‘YOU HAVE ‘THREE’ UNHEARD MESSAGES. FIRST UNHEARD MESSAGE, SENT ‘YESTERDAY’ AT THREE TWENTY SIX P.M.’**

_ “Emily, this is Christa from Sina Mental Health. But-- I’m not calling for work. I’m calling for all of us.” _ Christa said.

_ “That’s right.” _ I heard Ymir say in the background.

_ “You should call us back.” _ I barely heard Reiner.

_ “We’re very worried about you. This isn’t like you, and we miss hearing from you. Some of the other patients have been asking about you.” _ Christa added.

_ “You need to talk to someone, Emily.” _ That was Jean.

Just hearing him made me think of Levi, and hearing him screaming with rage. I deleted the message before it could play further, feeling sick.

**‘MESSAGE DELETED. SECOND UNHEARD MESSAGE, SENT ‘YESTERDAY’ AT SEVEN FORTY FIVE P.M.’**

_ “Emily?” _ It was  Armin **_._ ** _ “I asked Thomas about what happened to you. He couldn’t say much, but he said that you were taken off of the secondary partnered therapy rotation.” _ He sounded close to tears, and I felt my insides clench painfully.  _ “I miss you. So does Conny. Mikasa got really mad, convinced that whatever happened wasn’t your fault.” _ I heard him sniffle, and my eyes welled up with tears.

_ “I asked if I could write letters to you, to your apartment, and Dr. Smith allowed it. I just wanted to call because I wanted to hear your voice.” _ Armin sounded closer yet to tears.  _ “Please write back to me. Or call the hospital. I want to know if you are okay.” _

I barely managed to pause the machine before I was crying. I hadn’t just hurt the staff and Levi. By being taken off of the rotation because of my own stupidity, I’d hurt all of my other patients too. They’d come to trust me too, and I’d abandoned them.

When I finally stopped weeping, I figured that I could just drive the wedge in further. I hit play on the answering machine, ready for the last message.

**‘THIRD UNHEARD MESSAGE, SENT ‘TODAY’ AT EIGHT FIFTEEN A.M.’**

_ “Emily,” _ Dr. Smith sounded unhappy.  _ “I need to apologize to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. Asking you to confess to your honest attempt to help Levi directly in front of him was cruel of me. However, you did do something very, very wrong. I know that you know that.” _

He paused, and I heard him sigh.  _ “The board is looking into letting you back onto the rotation. I have also been talking in depth with Dr. Hanji at the Rose Facility for Mental Trauma. While what you did was a huge violation of patient privacy, she was able to confirm that she has a patient named Eren.” _

I lifted my head up off my knees, hardly able to believe it.

_ “Levi is not in a position to hear this information, and Eren is apparently not in a proper mental state to leave RFMT. However, he is able to write letters. Levi is not in a position to receive correspondence, but Eren expressed an interest in writing to you. I approved this measure, and Dr. Hanji has given him your address. I’m sure you will be hearing from both him and some of your patients here very soon.” _

He paused.

_ “What you are doing is a form of dissociation, Emily.” _ His voice was quieter now.  _ “I understand that you are in a bad place right now, and that you are not under any legal obligation to come back to SMH to talk to us, but you can’t cut yourself off like this. I know that the hospital and the patients you visit here are very important to you. Cutting that out of your life isn’t healthy. If you don’t want to speak to any of us, I could refer you to a different psychologist. Please take care of yourself, Emily. You’ve come too far to do this to yourself now.” _

The machine shut off, and I stayed on the floor, an odd mix of emotions. For one thing, I’d _found_ Eren. All of this betrayal hadn’t been for nothing. Even if Levi never spoke to me again, he might someday be able to write to Eren, to see him again. That was worth all of the tears I’d shed, and how guilty I felt. On the other hand, the thought of going back to Sina and trying to apologize made my insides cringe. I didn’t believe that they’d ever trust me again. I hadn’t thought my actions through, and now I had to live with the repercussions.

A spark of excitement refused to leave my stomach, however. My patients were being brave enough to write to me. Braver yet, Eren, a complete stranger, had heard about what I’d done and was going to write to me.

I bolted to my feet, staggering when my headache roared. I banged my shin on the corner of my end table and fell over, but I didn’t care. I jammed my feet into the running shoes I’d bought and grabbed my keys. I nearly slipped on a patch of ice in the parking lot, but I made it to the postboxes. I hadn’t checked my mail in days; I hadn’t had the energy to leave the apartment just to get bills and junk mail. Shivering, teeth chattering when an icy breeze hit me, I unlocked my box and took out a stack of mail.

I was out of breath, coughing a bit and freezing my butt off when I made it back to my apartment, but I didn’t care. Toeing out of my shoes, I checked through the mail. There was a bill, two coupon books, and--

One letter from each of my patients, Armin, Conny, Mikasa, and Bertl. They’d  _ all  _ written to me. I tucked the bill under my arm and carelessly dropped the coupons to the floor. I lifted the stack from my patients, and revealed the last letter.

It was from RFMT, and the return address in the corner was listed for the name ‘Eren Jaeger’. 


	16. Reaching Out

I made myself write back to my patients first. I must have wrote pages and pages about how I felt so guilty for the choices I’d made. I probably wrote an apology every other paragraph. I felt horrible, physically sick, and I begged for forgiveness for my actions. I made sure to ask how each one of them were doing, but I didn’t say anything about myself. They wouldn’t want to hear about how I’d accidentally gotten drunk with Mr. Chatterjee, or how I’d moped around my apartment.

I didn’t call the hospital. I knew that they would see that I was writing back to my patients (an orderly sorted and delivered mail). That would have to be enough for them. The thought of seeing their faces, disappointed and professional instead of open and friendly, made me feel worse.

That left Eren’s letter. I curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and opened the envelope. The paper from RFMT was blue, and had a watermark of a rose in the center of every page.

I read the letter over and over again, laughing to myself, tearing up a bit. Eren was unexpectedly but unmistakably  _ bubbly _ . If Levi was harsh and closed off, Eren was soft and open. I hadn’t even met him yet, and I was already picturing a giant teddy bear. He didn’t resent me for betraying Levi’s trust, and that made me almost melt with relief.

I got up from the couch and tracked down a pen and a notebook. I pulled a few pages out, folded the fuzzy ends along the perforation, and tugged those off too. Then I sat back down on the couch, using a book as a hard surface to write on.

I put all of my letters in the post, nearly slipping again in the icy parking lot. I hurried back inside, cold, but my spirits had risen a little bit.

The next day, after doing some more work and cleaning myself up a bit, I went to go visit Mr. Chatterjee.

“I can already tell that the sky has stopped falling for you.” Mr. Chatterjee declared when he opened his door. I stepped inside, and he led the way into the kitchen, putting the kettle on.

“I stuck my nose in where it didn’t belong trying to find someone that one of my friends thought he’d lost. I just found out that the person he was looking for has been found, and that they’re okay. They wrote to me and told me how thankful they were.” I said, smiling tiredly. “I thought he’d be angry, but he’s not. It makes me feel a little better.”

“I’m glad that worked out for you.” Mr. Chatterjee said warmly. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll withhold the whiskey today. I didn’t expect it to affect you so much.” he chuckled.

“That’s probably a good idea.” I said, laughing a little. “I’ve never been much of a drinker, and now I really shouldn’t.”

“You mentioned that yesterday. Can I ask what happened to your liver, young lady?” Mr. Chatterjee asked. I ran a finger around the rim of my teacup, a little nervous.

“I was kidnapped almost three years ago by people who stole organs for the black market. They took a lung, a kidney, some skin from my back, blood, my spleen, and parts of my liver.” I whispered.

“Good God,” Mr. Chatterjee said softly. “And you’re still ticking?”

“Yes.” I said. “It’s possible to live without all of those things. I just have to be careful.”

“You’re quite the extraordinary young lady, you know.” Mr. Chatterjee said warmly. I blushed a bit, hastily taking a sip of tea to hide my face. “I’m very glad you were able to tell me.”

When I went back into my apartment, my phone was blinking with a message. I made a cup of tea, coughing into my sleeve, before I played the message.

**‘YOU HAVE ‘ONE’ UNHEARD MESSAGE. FIRST UNHEARD MESSAGE, SENT ‘TODAY’ AT TEN OH-SEVEN A.M.’**

_ “Emily, this is Dr. Smith. I noticed that you wrote back to Conny, Armin, and Mikasa. Dr. Hanji called to confirm that you’d begun writing to Eren. I just wanted to let you know that I was glad to hear that you were reaching out to people again.” _

_ “As your psychologist, it’s my job to listen to you, and to be sensitive to you. I feel fully responsible for the fact that you have distanced yourself from those you care about. I’d like to apologize to you again. I’m always available for you to talk to if you’d like. If you don’t I still respect your decision.” _ He paused.

_ “The board is still reviewing the decision to let you back into the program. It helps that Levi didn’t slip as far as what everyone expected. Unfortunately, it also helps that you have distanced yourself, even though I know that it has most likely been difficult for you. That aside, your track record for helping patients, even at the risk to your own health, also paints you in a more flattering light.” _

_ “I hope that you are taking care of yourself, Emily.” _

I stared at the machine, holding my cup of tea. I’d reached back out to everyone but the staff at SMH, and I felt guilty after hearing the slight sadness in Dr. Smith’s tone. He was blaming himself for nothing-- I really had made a gigantic mistake. He had every right to be angry.

It had been nine days, but I wasn’t ready to call back yet. 


	17. Avoidance

I read Eren’s letter several times, smiling until my face hurt. Even though I felt like I was freezing (I turned the heat up in my apartment), my mood couldn’t be diminished. I looked up the number for RFMT and found Dr. Hanji’s number. I called it, and it rang twice before-

_ “The Rose Facility for Mental Trauma-- this is Erd. You’ve reached the office of Dr. Hanji Zoe. What can I do for you?” _

“Um, hi.” I coughed a bit, nervous. “My name is Emily-- I was hoping to speak to Dr. Hanji?” I asked timidly, and I heard Erd type something.

_ “Dr. Hanji isn’t available right now, Emily. Can I take a mess-” _

A brief patch of static, like the phone was being wrestled away.

_ “Give me the phone, Erd. Give it, give it--! Hi, Emily, are you still there? This is Dr. Hanji!” _ Eren’s psychologist sounded bright and excited.

“Yes. Is it okay that I’ve--?” I tried to ask, but Dr. Hanji cut me off.

_ “Yes, of course it’s okay! I’m so glad you called, Emily.” _ She said warmly.  _ “Eren has been so excited since all of this started. You really are quite the Wonder Woman.” _

“I-- I just wanted to call and make sure that it’s okay to visit Eren.” I stammered, and coughed into my fist as Dr. Hanji responded.

_ “Oh, you want to? Excellent! Yes, we would be happy to have you. It was very thoughtful of you to call first.” _ Dr. Hanji said. I could practically hear her smile through the phone.  _ “Dr. Smith said that you were a very caring individual, and I can see that he was right.” _

“I-- okay. I’ll probably come tomorrow, then.” I avoided the topic of Dr. Smith. “Thanks.”

_ “No problem, Emily. We’ll be waiting for you.” _ Dr. Hanji said cheerfully, and then we’d hung up.

I nearly dropped my phone when it rang again right away, but the number on the Caller ID wasn’t from RFMT. It was from SMH. I stared at my phone, weighing the options, unable to decide to pick up or not. I hesitated too long, because the ringer reached it’s end.

**‘THE NUMBER YOU ARE TRYING TO REACH IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE TONE.’**

_ “Emily, this is Dr. Smith.” _ He paused, clearly waiting, hoping that I’d pick up the phone. When I didn’t, I heard him sigh.  _ “Judging by how you’ve been unwilling to respond, I don’t have high hopes that you’ll do as I ask, but I have to try and call anyway.” _ I heard papers rustle.  _ “You are due for your next quarterly doctor’s appointment with Dr. Pyxis.” _

My stomach clenched at the thought. I didn’t want to go in, especially not after what had happened. I even had a cold that I’d been neglecting on top of it. Dr. Pyxis would be even more disappointed than he already was.

_ “I know that you are not legally obligated to come to these appointments, and that you’ve been coming to them because you monitoring your health was an important part of your recovery. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome or afraid to come back, Emily. Your health is very important. It’s unlikely that you will want to come back, especially after what has happened to do something that frightens you, but I wanted to call to ask you to come.” _

He waited again, clearly hoping.

_ “Levi has asked about you. He has made significant strides in his recovery, and he wanted me to pass on that he can understand why you did what you did. He’s working on forgiving you, and has every intention to do so.”  _ Dr. Smith added.  _ “He isn’t quite ready to hear about Eren yet, and I don’t think it’s wise for him to write or receive any letters. When he is, I will let you know.” _

Another pause.

_ “Emily, the board is still reviewing your case. I have testified on your behalf, and have vouched for your behavior. Dr. Hanji has as well, and many of the orderlies and nurses here have also expressed their support of your actions. We will see what they decide. I will admit that I am afraid that even if you are allowed to return to secondary therapy that you will feel as if you are not welcome. I can  _ **_strongly_ ** _ assure you that is not the case.” _

“ _ Dr. Smith? I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but you are needed.”  _ I heard Christa, faintly, in the background.

_ “Please try to find it in you to call me, Emily. I’d feel much better if I got a chance to talk things through with you. And please call to schedule an appointment with Dr. Pyxis. Take care.” _

The machine stopped. Even though I had to admit that I had a cold, I absolutely didn’t want to go. I did, however, feel that Dr. Smith deserved to hear from me. He’d always been so patient and gentle when waiting for me to tell him how I felt. He respected that I wasn’t a big sharer, and that it felt wrong to tell people about how I felt. If anything, I really owed  _ him  _ an apology.

I was a coward, but I knew that Dr. Smith had just left his office. If I called and left a message, it wouldn’t be as bad as talking to him. I hit the redial button, and fidgeted while the phone rang out.

_ “You’ve reached the office of Dr. Erwin Smith. I am currently unavailable. Please leave a message, and I will get back to you as soon as I am able.”   _ After a moment, the beep.

“Um, hi, Dr. Smith.” I said softly, eyes already smarting with tears. “I’m so sorry. I--I’m really sorry, Dr. Smith. I made such a horrible mistake.” I held the phone away so I could cough. “I betrayed your trust; I hurt  _ everyone.”  _ I hesitated, fidgeting even more. “I couldn’t even call you when you were there.” More fidgeting. “I-I feel so guilty. I made a mistake, and I have to deal with the repercussions. I deserve to feel this bad.” I gnawed on my lip, and gasped when someone knocked loudly on the door, scaring the crap out of me. I coughed a bit, going to answer the door. “I--I’ve got to go. S-sorry. I’ll try to call again.” I hung up, and pulled the door open.

“Brr!” Mr. Chatterjee was on my doorstep, and I hastily stood aside to let him in, shivering in the cold air. “I brought you a little something while I was out.” He presented me with a box of tea leaves, a chamomile blend. “You’ve been sniffling for weeks now. Maybe this will help.”

“Thanks, Mr. Chatterjee.” I said gratefully, smiling up at him.

“Well, I could tell you were on the phone, so I’ll bugger off. You have a good rest of your day.” He wished, ambling right back out again.

I brewed myself a cup of the tea he’d left, and took it with me in a travel mug to warm me up on a trip to the store to buy cough medicine. If I wasn’t going to go to see Dr. Pyxis, I had to at least make an effort. Plus, I didn’t want to get Eren sick. When I got back to my apartment, my phone was blinking with a message.

**‘YOU HAVE ‘ONE’ UNHEARD MESSAGE. FIRST UNHEARD MESSAGE, SENT ‘TODAY’ AT ELEVEN FOURTEEN A.M.’**

“ _ Emily, please pick up the phone.”  _ It was Dr. Smith, and he sounded rushed. A glance at the clock confirmed that he’d called less than three minutes after I’d left my apartment.  _ “Emily. Please.”  _ He let out a sigh after a moment when I obviously didn’t answer.  _ “Emily, I’m going to remind you again that this counts as dissociation. You are also showing signs of depression, which you do not have a history of. You don’t ‘deserve’ to feel unhappy, no matter how much you blame yourself. While you did do something wrong, you have not lost our trust. I have to ask you again to please come in to talk to me.” _

A pause.

_ “If you came in to talk to me, I would not ask you to see Dr. Pyxis. Although…”  _ I could practically feel him frown. “ _ It sounded like you were coughing, Emily. If you are sick, you need to take that seriously.” _

He waited again, and I heard him sigh.

_ “Alright, Emily. Thank you for calling me. I hope you can understand that you are more than forgiven. Please call again.” _

I deleted the message and hopped in the shower, trying to get warm. I downed some cough syrup, and crawled into bed, excited to meet Eren but too tired to stay up to do work, even though it was only early afternoon.


	18. Meeting Eren

I woke up feeling like trash. My head was throbbing, and I felt short of breath, but I wasn’t about to not see Eren. I got dressed, ate breakfast, and showered again to get warm. I took the cough medicine again, and nearly coughed it all back up. When I decided that I looked halfway presentable, I got in my car and headed to the Rose Facility. 

It was a gorgeous building. I walked nervously into reception, shivering even in my parka, and was greeted by the receptionist, a man named Gunter. When I told him that I was Emily, and that I was there to see Eren Jaeger, he paged Dr. Hanji for me. I’d waited barely five minutes before a woman in a white lab coat and glasses bounced across the lobby.

“Hello! You are the famous Emily! It’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m Dr. Hanji,” She offered her hand, and I shook it, smiling nervously. She was so energetic compared to Dr. Smith, who was always so calm and quiet. “Eren is over the moon. He won’t stop talking about you,” She said as we walked.

“I’m excited to meet him.” I said softly, and Dr. Hanji grinned.

“I just want to tell you that although you broke patient confidentiality I think that what you did was very selfless and brave.” She said as we walked. I blanched a bit. “Eren certainly thinks that you are a hero, and I do too.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, biting my tongue to keep from coughing.

“Okay! Eren hasn’t had a history of violence in a while, but an orderly will be present, just in case. I understand that you have had a few experiences in your past that might make you nervous meeting with someone with a tendency to be violent.” Dr. Hanji continued. “He’s also a hugger. I told him to wait until he got permission, but he’s a very enthusiastic person. Just look at the orderly and they’ll stop him if you feel uncomfortable. Otherwise, his only triggers are small spaces and the sounds of a fight. I don’t think either will be a problem. Is there anything I should know about you before we go in? Any triggers?” We’d stopped at a door.

“Doctors. Scrubs. Antiseptic, cold, needles, scalpels. Touching my abdomen.” I listed off quietly, shivering a bit.

“Ooh. You were very brave coming here, then. I’ll pass that on to the orderly. Are you ready?” She asked, and I nodded my affirmative. She opened the door with her keycard, and we stepped inside.

“And then  _ she  _ said that I might get to see her soon. Isn’t that great, Mike?” A young man’s voice was babbling excitedly. He was lying on his bed the wrong way, head hanging off the edge, talking to an orderly. He had dark brown hair in a messy style, and the most striking green and blue eyes that I’d ever seen. That had to be Eren.

“Yes,” Mike said, sounding amused. When Eren saw me standing next to Dr. Hanji, almost comical surprise passed over his face, and he scrambled upright, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Eren, this is your penpal, Emily. I thought I’d surprise you.” Dr. Hanji said warmly.

“You’re so... _ tiny!”  _ He spluttered, shoving himself off the bed. He went to approach, limping a bit on his left leg, and then stopped, shifting from foot to foot impatiently. “Hi, Emily! I’m so  _ freaking  _ happy that you’re here.” He was bouncing on his heels now. “Permission to hug?”

“Granted,” I said, laughing a bit. He flew over and picked me up with the force of his hug, laughing, the sound free and infectious.

“ _ I am so happy you’re here!!”  _ he said loudly, happily, and spun me in circles. He tightened his grip until I let out a little squeak.

“Oops. Sorry. I’m sorry. Is that okay, Dr. Hanji?” He asked, setting me down instantly and raising his hands in surrender, looking like a kicked puppy. I blinked, seeing stars. The spinning and the squeezing had made me dizzy.

“Yes, you did very well, Eren. Are you alright, Emily?” Dr. Hanji asked, and frowned a bit when I coughed into the crook of my arm as I got my breath back.

“Yes, I’m okay. I just didn’t expect it. I’m happy to meet you too, Eren. You’re much taller than I thought you would be.” I said, truly happy to see him, even if I had to look up quite a ways to see him. Eren grinned hugely.

“Levi’s the only one who’s short, although you’re probably shorter than him.” He said, still bouncing on his heels. “Can I hug you again?”

“Ye-,” I’d barely given permission before Eren hugged me again, but gently this time.

“I’m so thankful.  _ So. Thankful.”  _ He burrowed his face into my hair. “I never thought I’d see Levi again. I didn’t even know if he was alive.” Eren let out a sniff. “I’m so glad you risked it. I can feel somewhat normal again now that I know that he’s okay.”

“I--I’m glad too,” I managed, and when he pulled back, we both swiped at our eyes. Dr. Hanji passed us a tissue box, smiling a bit. “Thank you for writing to me. I was in a bad place, convinced that I’d made such a horrible mistake. You really helped me see the positive.” I told him, and Eren lit up like Christmas. He was so  _ beautiful.  _ I could see instantly why Levi was in love with him. I coughed into the tissue I’d taken to clean off my face, the sound heavy and wet, and Eren’s expression fell.

“Are you sick?” He asked, glancing worriedly at Dr. Hanji. She was also watching me, that knowing frown pulling at her brow.

“I’ve just got a cold,” I insisted a bit breathlessly, waving a hand dismissively. “I was really excited to come and talk to you today; a little cough wasn’t going to stop me.” I said, and Eren perked back up again.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course! Let’s sit and talk! Is that okay, Dr. Hanji?” He asked, looking to his psychologist for permission.

“Of course. Mike is going to stay here though. I hope that’s okay.” Dr. Hanji allowed. I nodded my acceptance, and Eren did too. “Alright. Have fun, you two.” She said, and winked on her way out.

“I can’t believe you got Levi to talk to you; you’re so...I don’t know. Tiny.” Eren said, watching me with an extremely curious expression as we sat down next to each other. There were two couches, and an armchair, but Eren seemed to want to be close. I didn’t mind it. “But I mean, you’ve barely said anything but I’m already talking to you. It’s kind of easy to talk to you.” Eren added, smiling sheepishly.

“I don’t know how I got him to talk to me either.” I said softly, worrying my hands together for warmth. I was  _ freezing.  _ “I just sat in silence with him most of the time. It happened really suddenly.”

_ Cold. Ice. The smell of blood. _

“That’s Levi,” Eren laughed fondly, breaking me out of my thoughts. “He didn’t warm up to me for almost a month, but once he did it was like I was his brother. He’s always been very...selective.” He looked at me, expression changing, and asked, “Are you cold?”

“I--yes.” I agreed, shoving my hands in between my legs to try and warm them up.

“Are you alright?” Mike asked quietly- Dr. Hanji must have filled him in on my triggers while I was being hugged.

“No, it’s okay! I’ve got this.” Eren said, leaping up and scurrying over to his bed. He tugged his blanket off of it and spread it out over my lap with a grin. “See? Okay.” he told Mike when I lifted the blanket to my chin, grateful for it. The blanket smelled clean, and it reminded me of Levi. Dr. Smith had said that he was trying to forgive me. That he’d asked about me. I pushed the thought of him out of my head.

“Thanks, Eren. I’m just always cold.” I explained, and he nodded seriously. “So, the real question is, do they serve cantaloupe here? You seem really jazzed by it.” I teased, and Eren brightened up again.

“You bet your ass they do! I’d never tried it before, and one of the orderlies, Rico, convinced me to try it. Oh my  _ god,  _ it was the best thing ever!” He instantly launched into his story, describing all of the great things he’d been able to try since he’d been taken to the hospital. He was so unflinching to describe how he hadn’t had decent food at the fight ring, but he did seem embarrassed when he realized how ‘pathetic’ it made him sound. I assured him that he didn’t seem pathetic, just as bubbly as I’d imagined. He’d grinned at that.

“You sound kind of hoarse,” he commented. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

“I’m really okay. I, um,” I coughed into my arm until I was breathless, but added, “I only have one lung.”

“Seriously?” Eren asked, his eyes going wide. “That’s awful!” He cried. “Did someone do that to you? Because I--I’ll--,” His voice had gone from happy and exuberant to furious in under a split-second. He shook his hands out abruptly, and started humming ‘Happy Birthday’ under his breath. It was clearly a coping mechanism, like how Levi stretched his hands out wide, and had picked up Dr. Smith’s breathing method.

“You’re alright, Eren. Keep humming for as long as you need.” Mike said calmly, and caught my eye. I nodded that I was okay, and he offered me a half smile.

“Sorry, Emily. I’ve got ‘anger issues’.” Eren made the air quotes, scrunching his nose up in a way that reminded me of Levi. It made me smile, and then cough. “But, I mean, you get it. You were hanging out with Levi for shit’s sake. Plus, you were in the hospital for something too, right?” He asked, cocking his head.

“I dissociate.” I answered, directing my gaze to the floor. Eren’s eyes were so all-knowing; it was almost harder to look at him, so open with his emotions, than it was with Levi, who always had a facade. “That means I withdraw completely. I feel like it’s safer in my head than it is in reality, so I kind of just...go comatose.” I explained softly.

“Wow. I’m so sorry. Thanks for telling me, Emily. I bet it’s hard.” Eren said just as quietly. “How much does Levi know about you?”

“A lot. It was hard to tell each other things, but we’ve managed.” I answered, smiling weakly. Eren nodded solemnly. “I’m missing other organs too. One of my kidneys, and my spleen, and parts of my liver.” I told him, and Eren’s expression, for the first time, turned just as war-like and battle ready as Levi’s had. Every facet of his beautiful eyes burned with rage, and a fiery determination to cause violence against my abusers. He was terrifying.

“Who? Who would  _ do  _ something like that?” He asked, voice dark and furious.

“Eren,” Mike warned, and Eren hummed ‘Happy Birthday’ again at a louder volume.  I was so surprised that Eren, who had just met me, was already so caring and protective.

“That just makes me so upset. That someone would do that.” Eren said finally, glaring at the floor. “I’m sorry, Emily. Really sorry.” He said, starting to reign himself in. The absolutely lethal expression on his face fell away, bringing back the exuberant puppy that I’d already grown accustomed to.

“You don’t have to apologize. Levi was the same way.” I said softly, and Eren smiled a bit at the thought.

“He was the only one who could ever help me control my urge to fight everything. I trusted him, and his judgment. If he told me to stand down, I always would.” Eren said, sounding slightly wistful. “If you see him before I do, and he knows about me, would you tell him that I miss him?” He asked hopefully.

“Of course I will.” I said, and Eren grinned hugely.

“You know, Levi might be slow to trust people, but his judgment is always spot on. He was so right to trust you.” He said, and I smiled, even if it was a little sad.

“That’s assuming he forgives me. I-- I really upset him, Eren.” I said, sounding as sad as I felt.

“Nuh uh.” Eren demanded, scooching over and hugging me. He was so utterly  _ warm  _ that I hugged him back. “You can’t be sad, okay? I don’t like seeing you all depressed. If I talk to Levi before he’s forgiven you, I’m going to talk some sense into him. So don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled into his shoulder. I’d never met someone who was so into physical contact, but I couldn’t deny that it was comforting. I’d come along way; before I’d reject any kind of touch, but now I found a hug to be just what I needed.

“Emily, you seem very tired. I think we should stop here for today.” Mike said when Eren and I pulled apart.

“You do seem really tired.” Eren agreed, even though he looked disappointed. “But waiting until we meet again will just build up the suspense!!” He said optimistically. “Here,” He offered me a hand up, and I took it. I folded his blanket, a few dots flashing across my vision. My throat spasmed, and then I was coughing, and coughing, and  _ coughing. _

I felt a pang of desperation as my vision started to swirl with black-- I couldn’t breathe!


	19. Pneumonia

“Emily, take deep breaths.” Mike coached when I could hear a bit better. My head was ringing. I’d somehow ended up sitting on the floor, back against the couch. Eren’s blanket was back over my lap. He was hovering in the background, face anxious. “I have a glass of water here.” He put it into my hand, and in between hacking coughs I managed a few sips until I could stop coughing and just gasp for air, each breath a rattling sort of inhale. 

The door opened, and Dr. Hanji came back in, along with another doctor. Mike got up and stood back with Eren as the new doctor crouched in front of me, along with Dr. Hanji. “Hi, Emily. My name is Dr. Farlan. I’m a physician. I know that you don’t like doctors, but you really are sick.” He told me, voice quiet and calm.

“M’fine,” I groaned, closing my eyes. I didn’t feel fine, and Dr. Farlan knew it.

“Do you have a doctor you normally see?” he asked softly.

“I--please. P-please, I don’t--,” I coughed until I saw stars, and then nothing at all.

“Alright. It’s alright, Eren.” I could hear Mike saying as someone lifted me. I was half aware that I was on a stretcher. Sound filtered out.

\--

When I came back to, I could feel something on my face. I reached up to push it off, and felt a needle in the back of my hand; an IV. I let out a gasp, freaked out, and ended up coughing until I was wheezing. “Emily, it’s alright.” It was Dr. Hanji. I forced my eyes open. She was sitting next to my bed. The room was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable. “I know that you hate everything about this right now, but we couldn’t do nothing.” She said sympathetically. “I appreciate the effort you put in to come and see Eren today. He does too. But you can’t deny that you are definitely ill.”

“I--I know,” I said hoarsely, closing my eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“I gathered. Legally, because you needed medical care, Dr. Farlan had to contact your normal physician. He seemed upset but not surprised that you hadn’t contacted him sooner.” Dr. Hanji said. “It’s really none of my business, but Dr. Pyxis is apparently on his way over.”

“Okay,” I whispered, breathing in threes. “What’s on my face?”

“A cannula. It’s giving you oxygen. Breathing through your nose might make you feel better.” Dr. Hanji said, and when I did as she suggested, I couldn’t deny that I felt less out of breath. Someone knocked, and then Dr. Farlan was there.

“Hi, Emily.” He greeted, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking far too nonchalant for a doctor. “How are you feeling?” I managed a shrug, and he tilted his head. “I’ve got a bit of a confession to make. When you were still out of it, Dr. Pyxis suggested that I take a chest x-ray. He said that you would be more comfortable hearing about it later than having to be conscious and panicking through it.” He bit his lip. “I can’t keep secrets, so I had to tell you.”

“Jeez, Dr. Farlan.” Dr. Hanji teased, looking at my surprised expression. “How did you _ever_ make it through your residency?” 

“My good looks, mostly.” He said honestly, and Dr. Hanji laughed. “You seem okay though, Emily.” He said. “Are you?” I nodded, and he visibly relaxed, surprising me further. “Eren was so thrilled to meet you. He’s already insisted that you’re his sister, and he is very worried about you. From what I understand, you helped to connect him to someone he’s very fond of.” He made conversation, leaning against Dr. Hanji’s chair.

“Eren may seem very cheerful all the time, but he really only opens up like that to people he trusts. Considering he’d never met you before, I was very impressed with how quickly he accepted you.” Dr. Hanji said, sounding thrilled about it.

“Dr. Farlan? Dr. Hanji? Dr. Pyxis from Sina Mental Health is here.” A nurse stuck her head around the door. Her reddish brown hair was in two tiny little pigtails.

“Thanks, Isabel. Bring him in, would you?” Dr. Farlan said, and a moment later, Dr. Pyxis was there, smiling above me, but his eyes were worried.

“Emily,” he sighed, tutting at the sight of me. “How long have you been ill?”

“Um,” I thought about it. I’d started feeling sick as soon as I’d been barred from visiting Sina, but I hadn’t felt truly horrible until a few days ago. “A while?” I guessed in a croak, and Dr. Pyxis tutted again. He passed a file folder to Dr. Farlan, who went over to the wall and turned on an x-ray viewing light. He opened the folder and put the film into the light. The empty section on the left side made me wince a bit.

“Goodness gracious. You, my dear, have pneumonia.” Dr. Pyxis declared, frowning at the x-ray film. I thought of all the times I’d gone for a walk, or I’d ran out to check the mail or get groceries. I’d been so distracted and upset that I’d never taken a coat. I recoiled a bit, surprised, when he took my hand. “It worries me that you didn’t come to us, Emily. You must have been feeling ill for quite some time.” He frowned at me a bit. “Please don’t ever do this again.”

“I--I’m just--I’m so sorry.” I croaked, eyes sparkling with tears. “I was so--,”

“Now, now. Don’t be so upset.” Dr. Pyxis soothed, patting my hand. “You don’t have to feel guilty, Emily. You are more than forgiven. What matters now is getting you healthy.” He nodded to Dr. Farlan, who turned off the light on the x-ray and passed the film back. “You may not want to, but it would be best if we took you back to Sina Mental Health.”

“But--but Eren,” I protested feebly.

“Yes, he might be disappointed, but he’d want you to get well. The best place for you to do that is in a setting that you are familiar with.” Dr. Hanji said firmly. “I’m sure he will keep writing to you. Meeting you even just once has been great for him.”

“Okay,” I whispered, more tired than anything else. I closed my eyes.

“I’m going to give you something for the trip over, Emily. It’s just a sedative to help you rest. When you wake up, you’ll be back at Sina, with people who know you. You’ll be better in no time.” Dr. Pyxis told me. “Just relax,” He said, and I felt him inject something into my IV.

\--

Time blurred. I faintly remember the cold of going from inside to some sort of vehicle, and I remember the cold again as I left the vehicle and went into what I fuzzily assumed was SMH.

I could barely respond to Ymir, who helped me get out of my parka, shoes, and clothes. She helped me into the scrubs, and then loaded me down with blankets. In the warm and the quiet, I found myself falling asleep.

I woke up when I heard someone sit nearby. When I made my eyes open, I saw just a blur, but a tall and blond one. It had to be Dr. Smith. I instantly felt my eyes well up with tears. “I--,” I coughed until I was shaking- my chest felt heavy.

“Shhh. It’s alright, Emily.” Dr. Smith soothed, and a hand brushed over my forehead. His skin felt warm.

“I’m so sorry,” I rasped anyway.

“I know you are. I’m sorry too.” Dr. Smith said quietly. He sounded sad. “I just wanted to come and see you to apologize in person. Dr. Pyxis says that you are very sick, Emily.”

I reached out mindlessly with my hand, and Dr. Smith took it. I didn’t initiate contact hardly ever, but when I did, I really needed it.

“Many of the patients here are both excited and saddened to hear that you’ve returned.” Dr. Smith added. “And before you ask, yes, Levi is one of those people.” He said, reading my expression. I closed my eyes, tired, but even more tired of crying. Dr. Smith grabbed a tissue, and very delicately wiped my tears.

“Is he ok?” I whispered. “I hurt him so much, Dr. Smith.”

“Levi is doing just fine, Emily. It didn’t take him long to realize that you feel as horrible as he did when he was triggered into attacking you.” Dr. Smith said soothingly. “You haven’t destroyed your friendship.”

“Are you sure?” I whispered. “He--he called me a bitch.” I winced at the memory of listening to him screaming.

“I believe he was referring to Annie.” Dr. Smith said mildly. “Even if he wasn’t, Emily, we all react differently to anger. Cursing seems to be a way of therapy for Levi.” Dr. Smith’s thumb ran over my knuckles in a soothing motion. “In fact, he has even offered you an apology; he has forgiven you.”

I opened my eyes. Dr. Smith was still blurry, but I could see his smile. The thought of having been forgiven by Levi made me relax from a tense state I hadn’t even been aware of.

“He’s been asking a lot of questions. He is naturally suspicious of me, but has come to an understanding that you’ve been avoiding the hospital. I’ve also told him that you’ve been readmitted because of sickness, not for your mental health.”

“Thank you,” I sighed. “Does he--,” I coughed heavily, “--know about Eren?”

“No. Not yet. He has been more focused on you.” Dr. Smith said. “He has also, surprisingly, been meeting regularly with Armin.”

I nearly coughed up my lung in surprise. “Seriously?” I asked weakly once Dr. Smith had helped me sit up and drink some water. “Armin?”

“Yes. He is extremely skittish, and still needs an orderly with him, even when Levi is in a jacket, but he’s trying.” Dr. Smith said. “If they can’t talk about their own experiences, they talk about you.”

“Can I see them?” I asked, and Dr. Smith shook his head.

“Your health comes first. Dr. Pyxis is very worried about you. If he declares you well enough for a visitor, Armin may come. Levi cannot. Just try to rest, Emily.” He said firmly.

“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Smith.” I whispered, and he set my hand down, patting it.

“You are always welcome, Emily.” he said warmly. I barely stayed awake until he left the room, and then I was out like a light.

\--

I got worse. Much worse.

I kept waking up and panicking at the feeling of something on my face. I kept shoving it off and then nearly suffocating without the extra oxygen. No matter how many times soothing voices and gentle hands put the cannula back and explained to me what it was, I still panicked.

“Please, don’t take my eye.” I kept begging hoarsely, over and over.

“Emily, you don’t have the energy to be dissociating when you are this sick. Please try to understand that you are safe. No one is going to take your eye.” Dr. Smith said. He sounded very far away.

They taped the cannula on, and when I still kept shoving at it, they had to buckle my wrists to the bed. Every time I woke up and couldn’t try to protect my eye, panicked. Eventually, they gave me a sedative to calm me down. I then floated through dreams full of ice baths, apologies, and scalpels.

When my lung started to get fluid accumulating near it, Dr. Pyxis asked me to lay on my left side instead of my back. The gave me a sedative when they had to pull fluid out with a needle and syringe, and that was the only reason I didn’t dissociate. It helped that Dr. Smith was there, speaking soothingly.

I woke up a few times on my side, wrists buckled to one side of the bed. Careful fingers would braid my hair, and their owner would talk to me quietly. They sounded familiar. I asked for my friends. I never heard their reply clearly, but it sounded reassuring enough.

\--

“We have to consider a lung transplant.” Dr. Pyxis, speaking in a low voice.

“In her condition, a transplant would kill her.” That sounded like Dr. Farlan. Why would he be there?

“Not to mention the recovery time and environment would scare her. Doing this without her consent-,”

“Erwin, be serious. This may come down to saving her life.” Dr. Pyxis cut him off.

“There must be another treatment method.” Dr. Smith said firmly.

“We’ve given her the strongest antibiotics and cough suppressants we can considering her liver and kidneys can’t filter medicines out at a normal rate.” Dr. Pyxis sighed. “If she doesn’t improve soon, she may decline further than we can afford.” He paused. “I would then consider calling in Hospice.”

“Shit.” I’d never heard Dr. Smith swear, or sound so openly upset.

“Your other patients have grown very attached.” Dr. Farlan said, and it wasn’t a question.

_“I’ve_ grown attached.” Dr. Smith added with another sigh, sounding even more tired. “Most of the staff have as well. Our one patient, Levi Ackerman, might become completely unreachable if that were to happen.” He paused. “You know as well as I do that not many patients recover this much. Emily is a rare but beautiful example of why I wanted to become a psychologist in the first place.” 

“I will do what I can. There is one other type of therapy I could try. Antibodies that her body isn’t making could be supplemented with monoclonal antibodies created specifically to attack the bacterial infection. If she could fight the bacteria more effectively, she might recover.”

“I agree.” Dr. Farlan said.

“Alright. Thank you.” Dr. Smith said, sounding defeated, and I heard them leave.


	20. Dr. Smith's Guilt

\--   
**

“What the fuck, Dr. Dildo?”  Levi Ackerman asked as we watched Reiner set up the punching bag. Levi had indicated that fighting wasn’t necessarily a trigger for him- he enjoyed it. The violence he was used to didn’t necessarily always contribute to his anger. Just as exercise was an outlet for Mikasa, kickboxing was an outlet for Levi. “Is this some kind of fucking test?” He asked, sitting cross legged in his bed, eyes narrowed.

“No.” I said, unable to take the heaviness out of my voice. The situation with Emily Linwood had spiraled so far out of control and so quickly that I was tired. I’d seen many horrible cases in my time, but this so far had to be the worst. The slightest of miscommunications between myself, Levi, and Emily had set them back horrifically. They were such complicated individuals.

Worse yet, it appeared as if Emily had been sick for a while, and hadn’t pursued help. I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Her decision to contact another hospital with private and sensitive patient information had put the reputation and admitting privileges of the both hospitals into jeopardy. She’d made Levi have another (albeit small and short lived) psychotic break. His anger had caused hospital staff to be injured. Her decisions had caused lots of problems, but the toll her guilt had taken on her had altered her way of thinking. She’d made herself think that she deserved to suffer, and her health had declined very rapidly without her asking for help.

If the monoclonal antibody treatment Dr. Pyxis was attempting as a last resort didn’t work, it was more likely than not that Emily would die.

Levi deserved to know. Technically the information was private, and sensitive to Emily’s case, but in between mild dissociations and fever dreams, she would deliriously ask for Levi, for Eren, and for Armin. If any of them were able to stay with her around the clock, they would already be privy to the information about her health. Therefore, I was taking it into my own hands to inform them.

To do that, Levi would need an outlet. Annie and Jean would stop him if he began to hurt himself, but perhaps if he had a way to burn off his anger he would recover more quickly.  Violence was never an answer, but if it was best suited to helping Levi understand and control his emotions, I had to try it. Levi heard the heaviness to my tone and saw something in my expression.

“What the fuck happened?” He demanded, hands clenching into his bedspread. “Tell me, you asshole,” He added when I said nothing.

“Levi, Emily is not doing well.” I said grimly. “She has a severe case of pneumonia. Do you know what that is?”

“A lung infection,” Levi said, voice frightfully flat as he put the pieces together.

“Yes.” I agreed. “I told you that she was avoiding the hospital, and now we know why. Emily was sick for a long time before she was admitted.” I sighed.

“And whose fucking fault is that?” Levi said darkly, glaring at me. “You probably know better than anyone that she’s delicate, and you ripped her fucking heart out. Of  _ course  _ she didn’t want to come back!”

“I do feel responsible for why Emily decided to cut herself off in such a way, but we made repeated attempts to reach out to--,”

“Bullshit. You’re her doctors. Do your fucking jobs.” Levi snapped.

“Levi, please, listen to me. Emily’s body was already very sensitive because of her past, and she went a long time without proper treatment. Dr. Pyxis has one last treatment he is willing to try, but you need to prepare yourself.” I said very quietly.

Levi’s eyes widened when he understood my meaning, and then burned with white hot fury. However, as a testament to how far he had improved, he ground out, “Let me see her.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I don’t give a  _ fuck  _ what you think.” Levi snarled, shaking in an effort not to attack. “Let. Me. See. Her.”

“I will consult with Dr. Pyxis.” I relented. “While I do that, you need to think about what might happen. You need to think about Emily would want for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, or I swear to god I will rip you limb from limb.” Levi promised darkly. “You don’t know anything. If you did, you wouldn’t have let this  _ fucking  _ happen.” His voice cracked, and he swore, shaking his head viciously. I thought I saw a glimpse of tears.

“I will keep you updated.” I said quietly. “In the meantime, and orderly will stay here with you if you want to use the punching bag. If you begin to hurt yourself, they will ask you to stop. If you don’t, they will put you in a jacket.”

“Fine. Get the  _ fuck _ out.” Levi snarled. Reiner tossed him the gloves as I walked out. In the hallway, I paused for a moment, rubbing my forehead. I could hear the dull, repeated smacks of Levi working on the punching bag from out in the hallway.

Everything felt wrong. Emily had been able to work outside of normal rules and laws. The end result had nearly been catastrophic, but good had come out of it; Eren had been found. Sina Mental Health, myself included, had been unable to force Emily to answer our calls, or to come in to the hospital. If we had shown up at her apartment as Petra nearly did, we could be prosecuted. On the other hand, Emily would not have gotten so ill. Did that make breaking the rules right? Did that make possibly hurting patients a moral obligation?

“You don’t have all the answers, Dr. Smith. And you shouldn’t blame yourself too much.” I’d forgotten completely that Jean Kirschtein was standing across the hall on back-up with Annie Leonhart, just in case Levi felt threatened and attacked or got too enthusiastic with the punching bag.

“Emily was naive, but she knew what she was doing.” Annie added flatly. “You can’t save them all.”

“Yes, well...thank you.” I sighed, not comforted in the least, but reminded that I had a job to do. Other patients in the hospital depended on me.

Besides, I had to break the news to both Armin Arlert and Dr. Hanji in order to get the news of Emily’s decline to Eren Jaeger. I also mulled over the idea of having Armin and Levi talk once they both knew. Levi might be angered to violence, but both of them knew Emily well, and would want to talk about the news, and what might happen next.

At the thought, I paged Dr. Pyxis to meet me later in order to discuss allowing Levi a visitation. Technically, Emily was still off of the secondary partnered therapy rotation, and because Levi had such a long history of violence, he wasn’t on the registry to have non-patient visitors or visit anyone.  I was willing to bend the rules, especially if push came to shove.

It would be what Emily would have wanted.

  
\--   
**


	21. Armin and Levi

\--

**

“Stop fucking crying.”

I sniffled, but did my best to do as he asked. I’d been crying for a while anyway, as soon as Dr. Smith had told me. I’d always been mocked for crying, but I couldn’t help it. “Sorry.” I said thickly, accepting a tissue from Jean and dabbing at my eyes. Levi glowered at the floor. He looked paler than usual. There was a punching bag in his room, and his eyes kept flicking to it, his arms moving minutely in the straight jacket. If he’d agreed to put it on to meet with me, he must at least respect me or want to talk with me, but I struggled to believe it. He was just too intimidating.

“Don’t fucking apologize either.” Levi ordered, although gruffly.

“I--I want you to know that I’ve seen Emily. Since she was readmitted.” I said quietly.

“What did she say?” Levi demanded, head snapping up to look at me.

“Nothing. She was unconscious.” I said sadly, fiddling with the tissue. “I braided her hair. She would kind of mumble a bit when her medicines were wearing off. She asked for you a lot.” I dared to look up.

Levi’s eyes looked wet, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was still glaring resolutely at the punching bag. Maybe if he was mentally picturing himself attacking it, the images helped him stay calm? I could see where his hands were clenching and unclenching inside the sleeves of the jacket.

“I wish we had some flowers. The hospital garden is all covered in snow now.” I added, unable to stand the silence.

“I could get some for you, Armin.” Jean spoke up unexpectedly, making me flinch. He was sitting on the floor next to me, arms crossed, expression blank but slipping into one of misery.

“You fucking do that. And not some fake shit either; they have to be real flowers.” Levi demanded, fixing Jean with an intense look.

“Of course. What kind of horse-faced asshole do you take me for?” Jean asked humorlessly, but after a moment Levi let out a quiet snort.

“You aren’t as stupid as you look, Seabiscuit.” He muttered. Considering Levi had managed to tell me how violent he’d been towards his orderlies when he first arrived at SMH, this comment was lighthearted by Levi’s standards. “Goddammit, what now?” He complained when he looked over and saw that I was dabbing away tears again.

“You guys aren’t yelling at each other.” I said, and Levi pulled a face. Jean, however, grinned at me.

“That’s right. Levi and I are practically married now.” He said teasingly.

“Get fucked,” Levi muttered, but not angrily. I could have sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

“I thought you were with Marco?” I asked timidly, for Levi’s sake. Jean practically choked on his own spit, which made Levi raise one thin eyebrow.

“How did you find out? Did Emily tell you?” Jean asked frantically once he could speak clearly.

“She wouldn’t do that. I just noticed is all. You two are sweet together.” I said, blushing a bit. “How long has Emily known?”

“Way back when she was on bedrest. Marco had brought everyone cupcakes in celebration for doing well on her ultrasound, and he spilled the beans.” Jean recalled, laughing fondly at the memory. “She thought it was great.”

“I didn’t get a cupcake.” Levi grumbled, but he was no longer staring at the punching bag. That made me feel better. I felt inadequate all the time, and I knew that he would talk much better with Emily than anyone else, but I had to try and help take his mind off of it. Emily would be proud that I’d tried, especially with someone so terrifying.

“Sorry, mate. Next time.” Jean said. “Something to look forward to?”

“Like the promise of one shitty cupcake would make me do  _ anything. _ ” Levi scoffed, but I didn’t quite believe him. I could tell Jean didn’t either, because he got that knowing grin on his face. “Piss off, cum-breath.” Levi growled, and I froze.

_ “Don’t fight it, baby. It’s going to be fine. I don’t have to pull out of  _ **_you_ ** _ , now do I? Yeah. Look at that cute little virgin ass--,” _

“It’s okay, Armin.” Jean said, and only then did I realize that I’d flung my arms over my head for protection with a gasp.

“Shit. I didn’t know that was a trigger.” Levi sounded furious, but not like he was mad at me. More like he understood. “I didn’t mean it, coconut.” he said gruffly, referring to my hair. He’d called me that mockingly at first, but now it was more of a nickname. I’d never had one before, so I liked it.

“I--no, I’m glad you know.” I managed tremulously, lowering my arms but hugging myself in the process. “It’s almost easier when I don’t have to say it.” I hesitated, and then added, “I’m HIV positive now.”

“Son of a bitch. Why is this world so  _ fucked  _ up?” Levi muttered darkly into his knees.

“Don’t be too disheartened. I read a lot of medical journals. Apparently they are close to developing an AIDS vaccine.” I volunteered.

“Good.” Levi grunted. “Last thing I need is for you to die too.” I blinked at him, surprised by his apparent care into my welfare.

“Emily isn’t going to die.” Jean said firmly.

“Oh, really? Is that why Dr. Suckass is so upset? He’s a shit actor. I can see it in his face. Armin can’t visit her anymore. She’s only got  _ one _ fucking lung, horse-face.” Levi ranted in a growl, squirming a bit in his jacket. I leaned over to hold onto Jean’s arm. I’d reached the point where I knew (or hoped) that Levi would never try to hurt me, but the tone of his voice and the violence in his eyes always put me on edge.

Jean pulled out of my hold, but draped the arm over my shoulders, frowning at Levi. “Emily’s been like this before, alright? I--shit.” Jean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am absolutely not telling you this. You didn’t hear it from me. If this comes back to bite me…” he sighed again. “When Emily got here, we didn’t think she’d even make it through the night. She had such a bad infection paired with exsanguination and dissociation that we were pretty much ready to have her taken to Hospice instead. Or a morgue. It was hard to tell that she was even still alive.” He said, voice low. “I’ve never seen anyone come back from something that bad. It’s like fighting is in her blood.”

“Emily fought you?” I asked quietly, trying to picture it and failing. She’d never mentioned this. It didn’t seem possible for someone even smaller than I was, and I was pretty small. Besides, Emily was so gentle and open. How could she ever have lashed out?

“Oh yes. She thought we were the same people that had abused her for a long time, and she didn’t want us to hurt her. She thought she was fighting for her life.” Jean said, sounding far away in his thoughts. “She scratched Thomas really badly one time. She wasn’t in a jacket too much, but during her recovery on bedrest she was strapped down more often than not.”

“That explains it.” I said, the pieces coming together. I hadn’t been sure why Emily’s hands had been tied down when I went in to see her. She was so weak- I’d been unsure on why they thought she was a threat. “When I went to see her, they had her hands tied down.”

“Why?” Levi barked, flaming up at the thought, looking pissed.

“I-- god, this is such a breach of privacy.” Jean groaned, pinching his nose tighter. “They’ve given her a cannula, that tube thing that goes under your nose to deliver oxygen. She needs it to help her breathe, but she keeps thinking it’s something else, something to do with her abusers planning on taking one of her eyes.” Jean gave me a squeeze when I scooted closer, terrified by the thought. “Even this bad she kept trying to tear it off. We even taped it to her face, but that wasn’t enough.”

“I--I want to see her, dammit. What the fuck is taking Dr. Shitstain so long?” Levi growled in frustration, squirming in his jacket.

“It’s not just up to him, you know. Dr. Pyxis holds the reins on this one.” Jean said.

“ _ Really _ ? You invite horse-related insults, you know. It’s your fucking fault.” Levi pointed out, and Jean sighed, jaded to the names Levi called him.

“I’m serious. Dr. Smith is a psychologist. Dr. Pyxis is her physician, and he’s consulting with yet another doctor. Dr. Smith’s got a say, but not a big one.” Jean continued. “They know what you want, Levi. You’re just going to have to be patient.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Levi snarled, tugging more at his jacket. “Can you go? I’m sick of this thing.” he said, irritated, and I nodded. Jean helped me to my feet. “And get Emily those flowers, horse-shit.” He reminded Jean as he saw me to the door.

“I won’t let him forget.” I said, waving a little. Levi just gave me a quick nod, eager to be out of the jacket. I met Annie in the hallway, and after Jean came back out, unharmed, with Levi’s jacket, she walked me back to my room.

The whole way there, I thought of Emily.

\--

**


	22. Flowers

“Hey. Idiot. Wake up.” 

“Emily, come on.”

A sniffle, muted.

“Fuck. Emily, I--shit.” Rustling, then an impatient noise. “Can’t I get out of this? Please?”

“Levi,” a new voice, sounding tired. “You know that you can’t.”

“She’s fucking  _ dying _ . You’re not even going to let me hold her hand?” Fury. “You fucking dick.”

“I--alright, fine.” More rustling. A buckle being undone. “I hope you realize I could be fired the moment someone else comes in here.”

No response. A cool hand, dry, hesitantly touched the back of my hand. After a moment, a little more surely, fingers laced through mine. They were trembling a bit. Their other hand rested on top, tender and careful, like I was made of glass.

“Emily. You can’t off it without giving me a chance to apologize.” The voice was strained. “You should see all the fucking get-up I’m in right now just to be here.” A pause. “Why does she sound like that?”

“You mean the wheezing?” the other voice, sounding even more tired. “Something with her lung. I’m not privy to that information.”

“Fuck. Dammit, Emily. You can’t make people care about you and then fucking leave. That’s a dick move, okay?”

The hand squeezed mine. After a second, my fingers curled. It was all I could give, but it made someone inhale sharply.

“Emily? Emily, wake the fuck up. I have to talk to you.” Desperation.

“Levi,” the other voice warned. “She’s still sedated to help her rest. She can’t wake up right now.” After a moment, a frantic, scared kind of curse. “Shit. Someone’s coming. You have to get back in the jacket, or you won’t get out of your room for weeks. I’ll be fired. Come on!”

“Dammit.” Shaky and furious, the hand squeezed mine one more time before letting go. “Don’t leave me, Emily. Don’t you fucking dare.” the sound of buckles, hasty.

Then nothing.

\--

Everything was quiet.

I knew in the back of my mind that I’d been asleep for a long time. My eyes felt kind of gritty. I could feel that I was on some sort of drug cocktail. It was odd, but I was lying on my side instead of my back. The feeling of something on my face made me scrunch my nose. When that didn’t help, I went to reach up to move it off of me, and my wrist tugged against something sturdy and made of leather.

I tugged weakly a few more times before giving up. I wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but I could tell that I was in SMH. I still felt horrible, but not as badly as I had before.

I thought of Eren. He’d been so happy, and so caring upon meeting me. Even when we hadn’t met he’d been such a kind individual. I didn’t feel like doing much of anything but lying there, but I already couldn’t wait to see him again.

The door opened and shut. Quiet footsteps came in, and I heard them check some sort of monitor nearby. “Emily? It’s Marco. Are you awake, or just dreaming again?” I heard him ask, voice barely above a whisper.

I managed some kind of groan in response. Marco’s hand gently pressed something to my forehead- one of those thermometers that could read your temperature just from your skin.

“You’re alright, Emily.” he reassured me quietly while he waited for it to read. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Mmm.” I hummed weakly, still not quite awake. “Marco,” I croaked.

“Yes, it’s me.” He agreed calmly. The thermometer beeped, and he checked it. “Oh, well done, Emily.” He said, sounding thrilled.

“There’s a-thing on m’face.” I slurred, and I heard him laugh softly.

“Yes. It’s just a cannula. We put it on you to help you breathe easier.” He explained. He seemed to wait, but I just sighed, exhausted. “Are you afraid, Emily? Are you in pain?”

“No,” I managed. The door opened, and hasty footsteps approached.

“Emily, it’s Dr. Pyxis.” I heard his voice. He sounded slightly rushed, like he’d been running. He was too old for that kind of thing. “Are you still awake?”

“Mmhm.” I hummed faintly. “M’tired.”

“I bet you are.” Dr. Pyxis said, but he sounded calmer now, and pleased. “Marco, if you would go inform Dr. Smith?”

“Yes. I’ll be back, Emily,” he promised, and then the door opened and closed again.

“Emily, I have to touch your side a little. Tell me if it hurts.” Dr. Pyxis said as he was doing it, his fingers moving lightly across my right side, under my shirt and blankets. I recoiled a bit, movements slow and late. It didn’t hurt too much, but it surprised me.  “Emily? I need your input.” He said, still feeling the area.

“M’stop.” I protested feebly. I didn’t like the feeling.

“Does it hurt?” he repeated.

“No.” I said faintly. The hands retreated, and smoothed the blanket back out.

“Alright, Emily. I’m stopping; I won’t touch there anymore. Thank you.” He said, sounding relieved. “I know that you are tired, but if you can stay awake a little longer, Dr. Smith is on his way.” Dr. Pyxis came to the other side of the bed and patted my hand gently. “You are making improvement, Emily.” Dr. Pyxis added. “I appreciate your fighting spirit.”

“--sorry I’m so late. Is she still awake?” Dr. Smith came in some time later, voice quiet but harried.

“Let’s see. Emily, are you still with me?” Dr. Pyxis asked, patting my hand a bit to rouse me.

“Mmm’sleepin’.” I said in a garbled sigh.

“You have a visitor, Emily. Dr. Smith is here.” Dr. Pyxis told me. It took great effort, but I got my eyes to flutter open briefly. I got a glimpse of a white lab coat with a yellow blur on top before I had to close my eyes again. “The antibodies must be working, Erwin. Her fever is breaking, and there isn’t any fluid in her chest cavity. She didn’t report any pain, and she apparently recognized Marco.” Dr. Pyxis filled him in when I didn’t say anything.

“To think we ever doubted you, Emily.” Dr. Smith said, sounding slightly disbelieving, but happy nonetheless. He chuckled a bit. “I know quite a few patients that will be happy to hear that you are starting to recover.”

“Mmmf,” I sighed, tugging on my wrist in an attempt to brush the cannula off of my face. When I couldn’t get it, I wrinkled my nose. A cooler hand took mine, and I felt them put something in my IV.

“I know you don’t like it, Emily. Try to put up with it for a little bit longer.” Dr. Smith was saying, his voice getting loopy as the drugs started to seep into me.

\--

_ I’d seen them take someone else’s eye. I’d barely been conscious, but I’d heard the man yelling and screaming. I told myself not to look, that it would make it worse, but eventually I glanced over and instantly regretted it. _

_ They’d taped something to his face, leaving a hole around his eye socket. The surgeons had wet a cloth with the disgusting, too-sweet stuff that  _ **really** _ put you under. It was the only mercy the man would get, but not for long. They certainly had to keep putting him down again and again. _

_ There was a disgusting amount of blood. It made me retreat into my mind just from looking at it. If I stayed camped out, hidden in my own mind, they’d never come back. They’d never take my eye. _

\--

I woke up from my dream with a hoarse gasp. It was such an odd juxtaposition to see a clean, white room with a vase of flowers instead of a dark, dirty hangar stained with gore. Thomas, who had been changing the linens on my bed, jumped a bit.

“Oh! Emily, you scared me. Are you alright?” He asked, hastily finishing spreading out a blanket over my legs. Panting a bit, I glanced at my wrists. I was on my back again, with a wrist tied to either side of the bed. Just the sight of it made my insides twist. It took effort not to try and slip out of them, to try and get loose. I knew from experience that it would be useless, and would only make me panic more.

“H-Hi, Thomas,” I said weakly, closing my eyes. Considering I hadn’t dissociated instantly upon waking up, I was mildly impressed with myself.

“Emily, do you know what’s on your face?” Thomas asked, voice low but calm.

“A can-thing. It’s for breathing. Right?” I asked shakily.

“Yes, a cannula. I’m glad that you can identify what it is. That means I can take these off. I’m going to touch you now.” He warned, and unbuckled my wrists. I hesitated, and then reached up and touched the cannula, opening my eyes. Thomas was watching me carefully, but offered me an encouraging smile. He reached down and hit a few buttons on his pager.

“How long have I been here?” I croaked, and then coughed. Thomas got me a glass of water, and made the bed recline when I asked. He helped me take a few sips.

“You were brought to SMH from the Rose Facility almost eight days ago.” Thomas said, counting briefly on his fingers. “You were very, very ill.” He summarized, but then smiled. “I guess you are just unstoppable.”

I smiled weakly at the thought.

“Hello!” Dr. Pyxis stepped through the door, smiling brilliantly at me. “How are you feeling?”

“I…”I managed a faint shrug. “Fuzzy?”

“That’s normal. We have you on quite a few medications. Ymir should be here soon with some lunch for you. I’d like you to eat as much of it as you can; it’s been awhile since your body had proper nutrients.” He said as I coughed into my arm. “Ah.” He said, sounding pleased, as Ymir came in with a tray.

I ate slowly, still fuzzy. Dr. Pyxis asked me a few questions, but sometimes he had to repeat them- I was so tired that I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. I answered them all the best I could. Finally, as Christa took the tray away after having popped in for a visit, I formulated the energy to ask a question of my own. “Flowers?” I said, managing a faint gesture towards the vase sitting nearby.

Christa smiled hugely.

“Yes, flowers.” She agreed. “Armin and Levi got those for you.”

That brought a smile to my face, and then a thought niggled in the back of my brain. I thought I remembered a dream...or maybe it hadn’t been a dream. “Did they come and visit?”

“Yes. Both of them, although Levi only once. Dr. Smith bent a few rules to make it happen.” Christa said conspiratorially, and then smiled when I yawned and then coughed. “Get some more rest, Emily.” She encouraged, and so I pushed the button to make the bed lie flat.

I fell asleep looking at the vase of flowers.


	23. The Plan

Over the next few days, I really only seemed to wake up, eat, and sleep. I was allowed to get up and take a shower, but only if I took it sitting down. When I was able to stay conscious for longer, Dr. Pyxis explained the treatment that had saved my life. The immune cells that make antibodies no longer had their normal place my spleen to mature. I’d been unable to make enough antibody to tell my body that I was sick as well as neutralize the bacteria that had invaded my lung. The antibodies I’d been given did that for me.

Combined with an already stressed body and mind, I’d gotten very sick very quickly. I was still so exhausted that I didn’t even get that upset when Dr. Pyxis sent me around for another chest x-ray. He pointed out to me the change in lung tissue as well as the healing areas. It look as if, for the moment, I was extremely lucky; I would get away with just minimal scarring. I’d be even less likely to run a marathon, and I might need an inhaler for activities that previously hadn’t been strenuous, but I’d be okay.

I still had to wear the cannula though. I  _ hated  _ it. I told Dr. Smith about my recurring dream/memory, and he tried to help me through it. He also gave me a very long and surprisingly gentle talk about how I’d cut myself off, and how no one should  _ ever  _  to feel as if they deserved misery. It was still so hard to tell him about how I felt, but I tried. We talked a lot about feeling guilty.

Finally, one morning, I woke up to see a familiar envelope on my nightstand, with Levi’s handwriting on the front. I made myself wait until after breakfast before I read the letter. I was excited to read it, but I was also still so nervous.

  
“I see you’ve read your letter.” Dr. Smith said when he popped in to see me. I’d been so happy to get it, but one thing stood out in my mind.

“He said he doesn’t want to talk about what I did, not at all. But what about Eren?” I asked, and Dr. Smith pondered it.

“I have trouble predicting Levi’s behavior. However, I worry that discovering that Eren is still alive will make Levi feel guilty for several reasons. I cannot tell you all of them, but I can tell you that I fear that he will feel guilty for reacting so harshly towards you.”

“But that’s not fair to do to yourself,” I protested, and then laughed weakly when Dr. Smith looked at me pointedly. “Okay, I get it. But not telling him would be even worse. Besides, I’m sure that Eren is just about ready to burst at this point.”

“Oh, he is,” Dr. Smith assured me. “He’s very fond of you. To possibly lose you so quickly after meeting you, while being separated from his friend, was very trying for him. The news of your recovery has sent him into almost manic behavior. Writing to Levi or eventually being able to reunite with him should help him calm down. Levi may recover more quickly with this immense burden off of his shoulders.” Dr. Smith looked at me. “Dr. Hanji and I have an idea.” He proposed.

\--

I wrote two letters after hearing and agreeing to the plan. The first was to Levi.

My second letter was different.

Dr. Smith promised that if Dr. Pyxis thought I could be moved, he would allow me to be there when Levi was told and was given the letter. I’d most likely be ready to be moved out at a moment’s notice, in case Levi got violent, but I was allowed to be there for him.

I was worried that it might be a lot all at once for him. He wouldn’t see me for the first time since my betrayal before Eren’s letter came, of that I was certain. Dr. Smith assured me that Levi was much tougher than I thought.

I didn’t have to wait long for a reply back from Levi- he’d clearly gotten the letter and written back all in the same day. Jean delivered it to me in person, joking about the nostalgia and wishing me well. We talked for a bit, and then it was me, alone, with Levi’s letter.

The thought of making Levi laugh after how bad I’d been to him made me feel better. I honestly couldn’t believe that he’d forgiven me. I wanted him to want to talk about it, but that probably wasn’t going to happen for a long time, or at least until Eren wrote his letter to him.

As a bolt of inspiration, I asked Marco to print off a story for me. He’d looked disapproving, but he’d asked Dr. Smith before giving the pages to me, and my psychologist had reluctantly agreed to it.

The print out was a news story I’d asked Marco to find about the police finding the black market organ hangar I’d been stuck in. I figured that fair was fair, after all. I sat down to write the letter, taking great care not to read the actual article- I knew that I’d dissociate if I did.


	24. What's Fair

\--

**

“Shit. This is huge.” I stared at the letter Jean had handed me. What all had Emily needed to say? The letter was twice the size of the usual messages we passed back and forth. “What the fuck is all this?” I asked, baffled, and Jean shrugged.

“No idea, but I get off shift in a few minutes. Annie or Reiner will be your new courier until tomorrow. Later,” Jean waved on his way out the door, and the lock clicked shut, as usual.

Frowning, I opened the envelope. There were two separate folded papers inside, and one was labeled ‘read me first’. _Shit._ That was never a good sign. Frowning further, I opened it.

 

 

Shit. I glanced at the second piece sheath of folded papers. It suddenly seemed a lot more ominous, but I also understood Emily a lot more than I ever had before. Wouldn’t it just be easier if I read it? I’d understand her even better, and she wouldn’t have to say things that she didn’t want to say. I could digest the information in private.

At the same time, reading about what had happened to her in just a bland, uncaring news format would be awful. Knowing things about her past without her knowledge would be even worse. _Fuck._

I left the paper alone for a bit. I did my usual routine (150 crunches, 100 pushups, 100 lunges each leg), glaring at the letter the whole time. I chased arguments back and forth in my head, reasoning why I should and shouldn’t read the news story. Finally, irritated, I sat down and unfolded the story.

  

I found myself shaking as I set down the letter. I wasn’t sure if I was more angry or sad, and that pissed me off until I was pacing in circles, doing Dr. Suckass’s breathing method until I could see straight again.

Had Emily been this pissed off? This sad? I had no idea what she’d read about the fight ring. Did she hear about the cages, the squalor? Did she know that most kids were inducted in at age ten, and fought until they were killed? I’d been lucky to have only been there for a few years, and Eren hadn’t been able to tell me how long he’d been there. The constant adrenaline, caffeine, steroids, and pain pills made time blur, especially if you’d been injured more than once. Sometimes, to move us from fight to fight, we’d been drugged off our asses to prevent detection or escape. Time had no meaning if you couldn’t even stand up you were so drugged out of your fucking mind.

Christ. It sounded as if they’d milked every last drop of life out of people, slowly but surely. It had to have been a form of torture. Tiny, gentle, sweet Emily had been tortured like that.

It took effort not to start going mental. It took a lot of breathing and chanting ‘shit, shit, shit,’ under my breath to calm down. In the end, I folded both her letter and the printout and put it back in the envelope. Her letter went with all of the others.

I thought about writing back. At first, I dismissed the thought; I had no idea what to say. Then I remembered that she’d asked me to tell her either way what I’d decided to do. Growling a bit under my breath, I snagged a piece of paper and a pen.

I scrawled out my response, fast and furious, and shoved it into an envelope. Instead of shoving it under the door, like I did normally, I knocked and retreated so that an orderly would come in. Thankfully, it was Reiner. “This is for Emily. Can I have the gloves?” I asked tersely, jerking my head towards the punching bag.

“Yes.” He agreed after reading my expression and deciding to allow it. He took the letter, left, and returned a second later with the gloves. He leaned against the door, watching carefully, as I took out my feelings on the punching bag.

\--

**


	25. The Truth

I wasn’t sure if I was glad that Levi had read the article or not. It made my insides twist knowing that I’d upset him again, but I was glad that we were finally even. We’d both read something horrible about the other person. I didn’t know what he’d found out, and that made me terrified, but that was only fair.

Dr. Smith wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t say much about it when he came to see me. Instead, he just handed me a letter. I could see Eren’s handwriting on the front, which made my heart beat faster. “This is Eren’s letter to you. He wrote a separate one to Levi. Dr. Pyxis recommends that you stay in bed for the rest of the day, and so we will tell Levi tomorrow.” He informed me calmly. “You will be in a wheelchair, with oxygen, and you will have the emergency pager. I will also be present. Do you have any other questions or concerns?”

“No, I don’t think so. Thanks,” I said a bit nervously, and Dr. Smith offered me a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry too much, Emily. Everything will be fine.” He said firmly. “Please do your best to rest today; I’m sure that tomorrow will be taxing for you.” He offered one more smile before leaving. I opened Eren’s letter with trembling fingers.

 

\--

I didn’t sleep well. I was so worried about Levi, and when I wasn’t thinking about him I was thinking about Eren. Thankfully, when Dr. Pyxis saw me after breakfast, he said that I was cleared to make a brief trip upstairs. Reiner came after a bit and got me situated back into a wheelchair. It was a heavier chair than I was used to; it had an oxygen tank built into the frame. I didn’t have to push myself, which was good.

Reiner gave me the emergency pager, and we rode the elevator to the third floor. Annie and Jean were out front, and Dr. Smith was talking to them, expression serious. He offered me a smile, however, as we came up next to them. “It’s good to see you out of bed, Emily. Can you breathe comfortably?” He asked.

“Yes. It’s okay. Just weird.” I told him, scrunching my nose at the reminder of the cannula. They’d taken the tape off, but it still felt odd on my face.

“Good. If you have any problems, you need to tell me right away. I know that you want to be there for Levi, but your health is very important.” he said seriously. When I nodded my understanding, he passed me the letter. It was thick; it barely fit in the envelope, but Eren had written Levi’s name on the front of it. I held it carefully. A lot of love and pain and hope had been put onto the pages within.

“Good luck you two.” Jean said supportively, grinning.

“We’ll be right out front.” Annie said listlessly, but she gave me a small nod. She was holding a jacket, just in case. After a moment, Dr. Smith took the handles of my chair, Reiner unlocked the door, and then we’d moved inside.

Levi, who had clearly been in the middle of a workout, fell over from where he was doing a handstand, lifting and lowering himself with just his arms. “Holy shit--what the _fuck_?” He spluttered, bolting to his feet. _“Emily?_ Dr. Smith, what the fuck?” he demanded, eyes wide. “Are you dying or something?”

“No. Dr. Smith and Dr. Pyxis let me come and see you.” I said, feeling that familiar prick of guilt. I worried the edge if my sleeve, nervous and sad. “Levi, I--,”

“Shut up. You’ve done your apologizing, and I forgive you, you stupid fucking idiot.” Levi said firmly, cutting me off. “You look...better. Still like shit, but less shitty.”

“I heard that you were able to visit me, and that you and Armin got me flowers. Thank you. I wish I could have been conscious so that we could have talked.” I said quietly, and Levi made a dismissive snort, looking away.

“Well, I really only told you not to fucking die, and you did that. So it’s fine.” He said, wiping sweat off of his forehead. I’d never seen so much of him before. He wasn’t wearing his shirt, and aside from a few sad looking scars, he was so obviously healthy. He may have been short and lean, but every inch of him was ropy muscle. I’d heard the expression ‘fighting shape’ before, but now I knew exactly what it meant. I could see a few faint, lingering bruises on his knuckles, but he didn’t seem to be troubled by it. “You can’t be here just to say hi. I know you better than that.” He glared at Dr. Smith. “So what the fuck happened?”

“You were very upset after Emily told you what she’d done.” Dr. Smith began, and Levi’s eyes narrowed. “After that, when Emily was ill, you expressed a desire to not talk about what had happened, and I respected that wish.”

“Wish is still in place, asshole.” Levi said sharply, crossing his arms. Dr. Smith sighed, and put a hand on my shoulder, a signal for me to take the lead. Levi wasn’t one to string things out, so I just went for it.

“Levi, I found him. I found Eren.” I said softly, and Levi stared at me for a moment.

“What?” He asked, tone slightly dangerous. It made me shiver a bit.

“I didn’t find out until after I was barred from the hospital, but the psychologist I contacted is Eren’s doctor. He’s completely fine; he’s recovering at the Rose Facility for Mental Trauma across town.” I said as gently as possible. Levi just stared, but his eyes had widened again and his fingers had started to shake a bit, a sign that he was processing every word I said. “I went to see him before I was brought back here to SMH.” I said, thinking wistfully of Eren and his happiness, and his hugs. “Levi, he’s doing so well.”

“Y-You better not be fucking with me,” Levi croaked, wiping at his face, to remove both sweat and the first glimmer of tears.

“I swear to you that I’m not. He asked me to tell you that he misses you, but I think he probably said what he really wanted to say in here.” I extended the letter. Levi just stared at it, his shoulders starting to tremble.

“I need a moment.” He managed, voice hoarse. “Dr. Shitty--,”

“I understand. Do you want Emily to stay?” Dr. Smith said quietly. When Levi nodded, jerkily, Dr. Smith caught my eye. I nodded that I was fine, and so he left, the door locking behind him. As soon as he was gone, Levi sat down heavily and put his hands over his face. After a moment, that heartbreaking noise between a snarl and a sob escaped. I sat with him, dabbing away a few tears of my own. When I let out a shuddery, winded sort of sob of my own, Levi’s head shot up.

“Stop. Stop crying,” he said voice still cracking in places as he got up, went down on one knee in front of my chair, and ever so gently took my face in his hands. He swiped tears away with his thumb, minding the cannula. “Don’t cry; you won’t be able to breathe.” he said. “You did it. You found him.” He added as I let out another little hiccup, inhaling deeper for more oxygen. Levi hugged me then, hard. “Thank you. Shit, thank _fucking god_ for you, Emily. Thank you,” he mumbled into my hair. _"Thank you."_

We must have sat there, holding each other, shedding the rest of our tears for a good fifteen minutes. Finally, Levi pulled back and held my face again. “Emily, calm down. Seriously. Look at you, you’re wheezing.” He said gruffly. “Remember the Dr. Shitty breathing method?” He prompted, glancing down once at the pager as he wiped his eyes. He was clearly wondering if he should press it, even though he wanted me to stay. In response, I handed him the letter, closing my eyes and focusing on the in and out pattern of breathing. Eventually, when my breaths came easier, Levi gripped the letter around my hand, but he didn’t take it.

“Levi, read it.” I protested breathlessly. His expression was back to being hard to read again, so I had no idea how he was feeling.

“I want you to stay with me. I want you to read it to me. If you don’t want to, I get it.” He said, swiping at his eyes with his free hand. “But I want you to stay.”

I hesitated. This letter would be deeply personal. Levi had to know that, and yet he trusted me to stay with him. He wanted me to be there, and yet I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. Then, I remembered the pager. If it got to be too much, I’d ask Levi to stop, and he’d respect that. If I started crying hard enough to be seeing stars and dark spots, he’d probably push the pager before I could. He wanted me there, and so I’d be there for him.

I nodded that I’d stay, and his shoulders relaxed. He let go of my hand after a moment, and I opened the envelope with trembling fingers. I hesitated before unfolding the packet within, catching Levi’s eye. He nodded, and so I looked down, unfolded it, and began to read.


	26. Eren's Letter

I inhaled sharply, glancing up at Levi. He’d frozen on the spot. I hastily continued reading, sniffling a bit as I threatened to cry tears of joy.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked quietly, seeing as Levi had covered his face and was taking deep breaths.

“Jesus fucking christ. That Jaeger kid, I swear to god. He’s got balls.” Levi’s voice was muffled. He uncovered his face and looked at me, eyes watery and uncharacteristically wide. He looked stunned, and unusually pale. “How the ever loving shitfuck can he love someone like me?”

I smiled a bit shakily, so happy for him, and continued reading by way of reply.

“Fucking idiot.” Levi mumbled, rubbing his face. “What a stupid kid. It wasn’t his fucking fault. Always trying to protect me when he should have been covering his own ass. Idiot.”

I paused, unsure of if I should continue or not. Levi nodded me on, and so I kept reading.

“Levi,” I said breathlessly, laughing a little bit. _“Levi!”_

“Holy shit.” Levi said, and then he was laughing, the sound honest and wonderful. I found myself joining in, and he hugged me again. I hadn’t seen him smile so much...ever. Eren was right- he really did have a wonderful smile.

“He loves you,” I laughed into his shoulder, so unbelievably happy for the both of them. They’d overcome so much just to finally find one another again.

“Christ. _Thank you.”_ Levi pulled back and kissed my forehead, uncharacteristically open and expressive. “Without you we never would have--shit. Thank you.” He said sincerely. He smiled, and I smiled back.

“I’m just--so glad,” I panted, laughing a bit weakly as I swiped another tear off my face. I had to remember to breathe in hard through my nose for the extra oxygen, but that made me cough. The amount of relief I felt that I had managed to do right by both of them was incredible. “N--no, I’m okay,” I protested, trying to reach for the pager before Levi to keep it out of his reach. He snagged it easily.

“Shut up.” Levi muttered. He pressed the button, and the door swung open.

“Ah. Just take your time and breathe, Emily.” Dr. Smith coached, following Reiner in. He came over, crouched next to Levi, and put a hand on my knee. “How long?” He asked Levi, offering his hand for the pager.

“Just a minute or so. Didn’t want to risk it.” Levi said, surprisingly calm. His non-warlike attitude didn’t go unnoticed, especially when he passed over the pager without comment. Either the letter had really changed Levi’s outlook, or he was willing to put up with Dr. Smith for my sake.

“M’okay,” I insisted, sounding winded, but I was no longer gasping. “Levi, I’m so happy for you.”

“As am I, Levi. You are clear to write to Eren as often as you want.” Dr. Smith said honestly. After a moment, to both my astonishment and Dr. Smith’s, Levi offered him his hand to shake.

“You may have fucked up a bit with Emily, but you aren’t half bad, Dr. Smith.” Levi said, and Dr. Smith rose an eyebrow, smiling. That was probably the first time Levi had called him by his actual name instead of an insult.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, sounding amused. “I’ll also test that faith; Emily, you need to return to bed.”

“Seconded. Get out of my room and go rest.” Levi ordered gruffly. “We might not agree on pretty much everything, but you do have some good ideas.” he added when Dr. Smith raised his eyebrow further, impressed with Levi.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go back. Levi, congrats!” I said, and he actually smiled a full-blown smile, even with Dr. Smith there.

“Go on. Get better.” He urged, and after one last wave, Dr. Smith wheeled me out.


	27. Reunion

I spent the next week getting back to a healthy state. It wasn’t hard; it felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Levi loved Eren, and Eren loved Levi. They were able to write letters to each other, and Eren was so close to passing his final review and starting the next stage of his recovery. 

As I stayed on bed rest, either too tired to think straight or bored out of my mind, Armin, Mikasa, and Conny visited. Armin was excited; when he’d met with Levi, he’d noticed a drastic change in the man’s behavior. He was more patient, and he wasn’t quite so mean. Of course, Armin still needed him to wear the jacket, seeing as Levi was intimidating all on his own, but Levi didn’t mind it. That was a huge sign of how far he’d come.

Conny was doing well. He still liked to wear sunglasses, but he could leave his room without freaking out. He still told an obscene number of jokes. Even on oxygen I laughed until I was gasping, which made the nurse on rotation, Petra, think that I was stroking out. After a big misunderstanding, Conny and I sat and talked for another hour or so, minus the jokes.

Mikasa had been released while I was sick. She told me quietly that she was still keeping up her diet (she’d been starved nearly to death) and that she’d started preparing to run a short race. We talked a lot about the marathon, and the training I'd need to do to keep up with her. It wasn't impossible for me to try it, but it would be very, very hard. When I told her that I’d bought running shoes, she looked incredibly pleased.

Both Eren and Levi wrote to me. Levi’s letters were calm, grateful, and happy. Eren’s were full of excitement and a few embarrassed sentences here and there about how Levi had accepted his feelings and reciprocated them. I pictured Eren, blushing furiously as he read some romantic comment from Levi, and felt myself smile. Levi would be blunt, but he’d be sweet too, or so I imagined. I was 99% sure he’d written, at some point, ‘I love you, you fucking idiot’. Or maybe ‘you’re an asshole, but you’re _my_ asshole’. Or something along those lines. 

Then, I was finally allowed out of my room. Dr. Pyxis made me skip the ‘in need of a wheelchair’ stage and stay in my room for a week longer than I wanted to. I was grumpy because of it, but that also meant that when I did finally get off of bed rest, I could walk on my own, without oxygen or anything. I soon found out that the only things that really took my breath away were laughing at Conny’s jokes (normal), trying to take the stairs at a run (normal), and carrying something heavy (also normal). I got winded a little more quickly, but Dr. Pyxis suggested that may also be because I’d been resting for so long; any muscle I did have was lost from illness. It would take me a lot of work to officially be 100% healthy again, but I was willing to work for it.

\--

I sat in the grass of the hospital garden to catch my breath. Mikasa would come frequently to the hospital, and we’d ran laps together around the garden until I had to stop, she had to go, or both. I was getting more and more laps every day, but I still carried an inhaler and I still had to sit for about ten minutes after to completely catch my breath. Sometimes I felt as if I was breathing through a straw, but seeing my endurance increase made it all worth it. “You still okay over here?” Thomas asked as he walked by.

I gave a thumbs up, still a bit too winded to say anything. When Thomas motioned someone to approach, I looked over and felt a flash of excitement and surprise.

It was _Levi._ He looked well, and didn’t have on a jacket. He seemed so at peace to finally be out of his room. “Don’t get up, dumbass." He said as I went to do just that. "You look like you got hit by a truck,” he said, coming over and sitting in the grass with me. Thomas stayed nearby, but discreetly, giving us privacy. “Running laps with Mikasa again?” He asked, making conversation as I flopped onto my back, still panting. I nodded my head against the grass, closing my eyes. “How many did you get?” He asked. 

“Thirteen. I’m--getting there.” I said. “How long--can you--stay out--side?”

“Until dinner, I guess. Dr. Smith didn’t say anything about it.” Levi glanced around the garden. “So this is where Coconut gets all those damn flowers. Huh. Not bad.”

“When was the--last time you were--outside?” I asked, breaths coming easier now. Levi’s calm expression got carefully flat before he answered.

“A while. A long fucking time. Years, I think.” He answered, and then let out a slightly irritated, “Emily, what the fuck?” as I sat up and tugged off one of his hospital grade canvas shoes.

“Put your feet in the grass. It feels nice.” I explained, tugging off his sock. Grumbling, Levi swatted me lightly away and did his other shoe before sticking his bare feet in the grass. He wiggled his toes experimentally, expression unreadable.

“See? Feels good, right?”  I said, reaching to take off my running shoes, bending in half over my legs for the additional stretch. When I’d stretched to my satisfaction, I flopped onto my back again with a long sigh. We sat in our mutual silence, enjoying the garden and the day.

“You have a big scar on your back.” He said after a while. My breathing had evened out, but I stayed sprawled in the grass, tired. At the mention of my upper back, which was visible around my running tank-top, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, briefly, before making myself sit up so he could take a better look at it. I had a large, perfectly square scar on my back that was ropy and distorted from where they’d taken my skin. The edges of it vanished below my tank top, and the scar only ended at the middle of my back.

“It was taken for a skin graft.” I answered him, holding my legs and resting my head on my knees. Levi’s eyes flashed briefly at the news. He'd heard that I'd gotten skin removed at some point, but he'd never seen where. He'd only ever seen the scars on my abdomen when I dissociated in his room, and I hoped that he'd never have to see them ever again.

“Can I touch it?” He asked, and I managed a shrug. My back wasn’t a trigger for me, just an embarrassment. Levi ran his fingers along the scar tissue, light and careful, even though his eyes had hardened. I could barely feel him; that kind of damage made it hard to feel anything. “Can you even feel this?” he asked, reading my mind and making another pass, fingers moving over my shoulder blade.

“Yeah. Barely.” I agreed softly, closing my eyes. Levi moved his hand away then.

“Check this out,” he said after a moment, voice gruff. I opened my eyes to see him pulling his sleeve up. I’d seen the scar only briefly when I’d read him Eren’s letter, but seeing it up close in the light of day made me wince. It was a good five inches long, and looked like it had been a deep wound. It arched over his bicep, a shade paler than his already pale skin. “Knife. Hurt something awful.” He said, tone clipped. We stared at one another for a moment, and then I saw something behind him that made me gasp and point, head shooting up off of my knees.

Eren was standing a ways down the path, Dr. Smith and Dr. Hanji talking behind him. He wasn’t in hospital clothes, but normal jeans and a t-shirt. He’d been looking around the garden, but when he heard my gasp he turned to look. Time seemed to stop as Eren saw Levi, and Levi saw Eren.

Even with a limp, Eren was fast, and Levi was up off the ground in a shot. They met somewhere in the middle. Eren lifted Levi off the ground with the force of his hug, and they buried their faces into each other’s hair. Hands gripped clothes until their knuckles strained.

I got to my feet slowly, swiping tears of happiness off of my cheeks, and grinned at Dr. Hanji and Dr. Smith, who also looked touched. I then blushed furiously when Eren let go of Levi to grab his face and kiss him, hard. Levi carded his fingers through Eren’s hair and tugged him down closer, standing on his tiptoes to reach. After a long, tender moment, they let go of one another. Levi, surprisingly, had a flush high on his cheekbones, and a smile that was warmer than I’d ever seen. He whispered something into Eren’s ear, making the taller man blush and stammer something back in a manner that was probably too adorable to be legal, hugging Levi close again. I’d seen Eren when I thought he was at his most open and happy, but seeing him with Levi made me reevaluate. His shoulders relaxed more, and a constant, goofy kind of smile was always in place. He emanated an aura of pure _happiness._

After a moment, Eren put Levi down. Their height difference was astounding- Eren was a good head and a half taller. Eren must have said something along my same line of thought, because Levi yanked him down for another kiss, making him bend at a ridiculous angle to achieve it. When they finished, Eren was crying a little. “Dumbass.” I heard Levi say with unmistakable fondness as he wiped Eren’s tears away. Even when crying, Eren’s eyes were beautiful.

Eren just smiled, eyes watery, and then caught a glimpse of me standing behind Levi. _"Emily!”_ he cheered, racing over and whipping me up for a hug, spinning in a few circles. “I’m here today because of you. Levi and I can even _see_ each other today because of your bravery. I--thank you. Thank you.” he whispered in my ear, choking up again. 

“I’m so happy for you, Eren,” I whispered back, and he hugged me tighter, burying his face into my neck.

“Eren, she can’t breathe when you do that,” Levi called as he crossed over. Eren loosened his grip with an apologetic noise, but didn’t let go. “What the hell are you doing?” Levi asked, sounding amused as he stopped next to us.

“She missed out on a lot of hugs when she was sick so I have to make up for lost time. I missed her.” Eren said defensively into my shoulder. “Come here,” he said, and then he’d let go of me with one arm to squish Levi into the hug too, lifting him off the ground as I was. He held us both effortlessly, managing to cuddle us both with an astonishing amount of strength; it literally took my breath away.

“Eren, I love you, but this is ridiculous.” Levi grumbled, but I practically could feel his blush when Eren kissed his cheek.

“I’m so happy we are all together. _Surprise!”_ Eren said, and I laughed a bit into Eren’s shoulder. He laughed with me, overjoyed. 

“Can I be put down now?” I asked breathlessly after another minute. Eren hastily set us both back on our feet, checked that I was okay, and then ruffled my hair enthusiastically. Grinning, he then turned and kissed Levi again, looping an arm around his waist and practically dipping him. I looked away, blushing hotter, and Dr. Hanji and Dr. Smith approached. I walked over to meet them, giving Levi and Eren some privacy.

“Don’t you just love a happy ending?” Dr. Hanji chirped, grinning like a loon. “It’s good to see you all up-and-at-em’, Emily.”

“Thanks; it’s good to see you again too, Dr. Hanji.” I said, smiling back. “This was such a wonderful surprise. Does this mean that Eren passed his review?”

“Yes, but he will stay at the Rose Facility until he can be set up in a safe place. He’s not quite ready to live on his own yet.” Dr. Hanji said, grinning wider somehow as she watched Eren hug Levi again, pressing kisses to his hair. Levi wrapped his arms around Eren's waist, pressing his face into his chest. 

“Is that so?” Dr. Smith asked, face changing as he clearly got an idea. “Emily, can I talk to you for a moment?” He added, and I nodded, walking a few feet away from Dr. Hanji. “I know that once Dr. Pyxis clears you completely with one last chest-x-ray in a few days that you will be free to return home. I know that you are strong enough to live outside of the hospital. That being said, the incident that happened after telling Levi about your contact with RFMT cannot be overlooked.” Dr. Smith said seriously. “This is my opinion as your friend and your psychologist, Emily; I think that you would truly benefit from living with someone.”

“Oh. Like a roommate?” I asked, realizing what he meant. “With Eren?”

“It wouldn’t have to be him. You don’t even have to consider the idea. I just think that a huge contributing factor to your depression was that you were alone, and that you felt isolated because of that.” Dr. Smith said delicately. “If you are uncomfortable with the idea, you are by no means obligated to consider it.”

“I-- no, I’d like to help. And I think you’re right. Besides my one neighbor and all of you here at the hospital, I--I don’t really have any friends…” I realized, biting my lip. It was kind of upsetting that I was truly so alone, but the people I did have meant that I wasn't alone, not in the slightest. “If Eren would be okay with it, I’d be fine too.”

“We’ll have to ask Dr. Hanji and Eren.” Dr. Smith said, patting my shoulder. We turned to head back over, only to discover that Eren and Levi had joined Dr. Hanji, and were watching us. Dr. Hanji looked to be talking cheerfully, reassuringly, but both Eren and Levi were watching us carefully. It was probably because Dr. Smith always looked so serious if he wasn’t smiling, and that I always seemed to stumble when I was making improvement. They'd probably assumed the worst.

“Is everything alright?” Levi cut right to the chase as we came back, drilling Dr. Smith with an intense look. Eren was holding his hand, but he was looking at me, absorbing my smile and relaxing a little.

“Yes, everything is fine. Dr. Hanji, do you think that Eren could benefit from additional patient-patient interaction?” Dr. Smith asked pointedly. Dr. Hanji, as intelligent as she was, caught on right away and grinned.

“Why, yes, I do, Dr. Smith.” She declared with mock seriousness. “I think the environment would be non-judgmental, safe, and beneficial to him.”

“What do you mean?” Eren asked slightly nervously, not understanding. “Do you want to readmit me to the hospital?”

“No, nothing of the sort. Eren, how would you like to adjust to the life outside the hospital while living with Emily?” Dr. Smith asked, and Eren’s eyes widened comically.

“Um. _YES!”_ He cried, swooping me up and spinning in a few more circles. “It’ll be so great! We can build blanket forts and watch TV and come to visit Levi all the time!” Eren crowed, setting me back on my feet. “You’re okay with it, right?” He asked earnestly, bending at the knees a bit to look carefully at my face. 

“Of course I am,” I said, smiling. The smile that Eren gave back was so full of warmth and life that it made me even happier.


	28. Eren and Levi

I lived with Eren for two months while Levi worked through the rest of his primary care plan. While Eren was understandably worried about Levi and went to visit him every other day, as I had, we still had a blast.

Eren became best friends with all of my neighbors. All of the little old ladies made him bend over so they could pinch his cheeks, and he made cookies for them. He and I went on runs together, and when I got too winded to continue after two miles or so he’d put me on his back and carry me until I could catch my breath. Eren and Mikasa became running buddies too, and after an awkward misunderstanding about Eren being interested in women, Mikasa stopped flirting with him. Eren, for the record, had thought it was hilarious.

To celebrate Levi’s release from the hospital, we threw a small party. It included Mr. Chatterjee, Dr. Smith, Annie and Jean, and Eren and I. Eren couldn’t keep his hands off Levi, and vice versa. When Eren surprised Levi with an apartment of their own, they kissed until I was as red as a tomato.

Dr. Smith brought a surprise guest- Armin. He was skittish around Levi, always staying a person or two away, but he bonded very well with Mr. Chatterjee. Armin lit up like Christmas when Dr. Smith suggested that he live with me, and I agreed. I’d grown so accustomed to living with someone else. While I’d been happy for Eren and Levi, and I’d known that I’d see them all the time, the idea of living alone again was uncomfortable. Armin would be a great fit.

He gradually relaxed around Levi. It took a long, long time, and they still never hugged or shook hands or passed each other things, but Armin was trying. Considering he could be around Levi when he wasn’t in a straightjacket was a huge accomplishment all on it’s own. Eren and Armin became fast friends, and when they ganged up on Levi and made him wear a flower crown, Armin was even willing to put it on his head.

The three of them were there to cheer me on when I finished my first marathon with Mikasa. I’d trained so hard to match her pace. I’d gone through inhalers like candy, and had even, of my own free will, made appointments with Dr. Pyxis to make sure I was doing well and not hurting myself. All of my hard work paid off when Mikasa and I finished eleventh. For our first race, and for only having one lung, I was so proud of myself that I nearly cried. Armin cried instead, Levi hugged me, even though I was sweaty, and Eren carried me to the car on his back. When we got there, Eren then picked up Levi and kissed him until other cars were honking and hollering in appreciation.

Eren and Levi were blissfully happy. Both went back to their prospective hospitals to do secondary therapy with other patients. Eren turned out to be one hell of a cook- he started work in a small restaurant downtown. Levi hit the books, went to community college, and and became an engineer. In the evenings, he’d come home and Eren would be in the kitchen, making me and Armin taste things. We’d eat dinner together, Levi and Eren holding hands on the table until Eren bounced up to get dessert. Levi, for the record, had a huge sweet tooth, and always kissed Eren as a thank you.

They were there for each other, and there for me. I tried hard to be there for them too. A long story short, if I ever had a bad day, or a slip up, or dissociated, I could always make myself feel just a little bit better by admiring the beautiful relationship between Eren and Levi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to personally thank Ereri_fan, LlamasInPyjamas, CheekENjoy, Lopey1996, and all of the guests who took the time to comment and tell me how much they enjoyed this story! I'm so glad you all liked it. Thank you for reading!!


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